Lyrics:
children could see I'm the shrine for the fucking blind
Vietnam mama ball her son know nuthin but raw
Whom tattoos the boy choose
I'm winnin by 4 steps
Jazzy Jeff
On a motorcycle is next [Name]
He's my personal manager, he's the Hammer J.L.
And when I got flack, you know he got my back
He punched a hole
Blinded by the light, revved up like a deuce
Another runner in the night
Blinded by the light, revved up like a deuce
Another runner in the night
rolling
with me like 11 wheels find out where you living kill you in the kitchen
the feds trying to clip us but we aint even tripping
Chorus:
im going
that Frank's channeling
The Ku Klux Klan see me and my managers
But thank me when they ask where the Five Panels is (fuck)
Man, I suck now, I ain't
Where yo (yeah, yeah)
Where yo (yeah, yeah)
Where yo rackz (yeah)
You don't get no cash, i could see it by yo bag
You don't get no packs, i could see
lines you hid behind
I like Drake, You like Bono
You drink Jose, I sip Moscato
You love LA, I miss Toronto
I feel like I'm on my own
We both know where
"It's after hours at that glamorous blind spot
Where they're taking it easy, swapping personal experiences
Let's listen in America Today"
Life
D-Nice and McBoo, they're down with us
Ms. Melodie, she's down with us
Just-Ice and DMX, they're down with us
My manager Moe, he's down with us
antlers
Cancerous cause I ain't got no time to play
When I ask you a question
Answer is the lie where you lay
Lay where you die
Never wake up die where you
don't know where your manager went
That's just a heads up, cause none of y'all was plannin' a vic
I'm from the projects, Grey Goose, a crate
manners and your manager's mannerisms
Your mouth of a minimal double dribblin
Stuff the beretta got me jitterin
Got me feeling the pit fighters
it now
You could make a little room
With a push from your cocoon
And Quentin Blake illustrates
Your world of pure imagination
Where Francis Drake
Ready for this shit i'm trying to slid up with my k
They ain't ever outside we gonna slide to where they stay
I can't let you hold that choppa if you
ahead come this way
Real niggas go ahead slide this day
Real niggas stay strapped they've been safe
Shooting niggas and we shoot by the dozen
Hit a lick
fuckin' switches, get active with our hands
Niggas quick to bitch up, like nigga, where your daddy
And I can tell you spent your life without him, I'm your
high heeled shoes
Let you strut your stuff by the House of Blues
Or farther down Sunset where the tricks all cruise
"Are you my pimp?"
Oh dear God don't
the dirt weed, homie lets hit this
Props to Minneapolis, props to Mejico
Or where ever we go the CPT flows
Four deep in the Lexo (Lexo!)
Rollin chrome
time
Cymbaline
Please wake me
A butterfly with broken wings
Is falling by your side
The ravens all are closing in
And there's nowhere you
manager said that I should not appear.
I walked out onto the stage and started to speak.
The first night I've missed for a couple of years,
I
ain't a way to proceed when
You see what it gain
I'm pro family, still use profanity
Party time, like my damn manager's Wayne
Plannin' on damagin' things
got back to the skrilla
I was raised by lions and killers
In the heart of Broward County
Where you hit 'em with the county
Then you flood up your mouth
hired at the next one
Be lying if I said that I'm trying my best for these breadcrumbs
But sitting behind a register ain't where I get respect from
I
a due
I introduced my mom
With a gasp of white light
The manager let us slide by unnoticed
It was kind, but uncalled for
We didn't have much time in
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