Lyrics:
to pistolwhip me, he couldn't make that 30 stretch enough
Your brodie got smacked and we did that, come shoot the messenger
Let them pussies know who drivin' by
burnt up like a weenie and his name is Fred
He wears the same hat and sweater every single day
And even if it's hot outside, he wears it anyway!
He's gone
to the purge
Slumped on the curb I from the city where niggas will shoot over money and words
Playing with 40 and K's niggas will spray
Bullets will ruin UR day
up a boulder
(HACK! HACK!)
Hack up a boulder
(HACK! HACK! HACK!)
Up a boulder
Now, one day, now I believe it was on a Tuesday, a man in
blunts till my arm look like Popeye
Till the day is bye bye
Till then, three hundred G fly by, rented
So foggy windows look tinted
We just be lookin'
Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen.
This is Doodles Weaver in the pressbox
In Indianapolis for the races out here.
It is a beautiful day for
word, nigga
Someone who stays high
Watching their life go by
Someone content with riding it behind, nigga
They come in all colors, white, black, Puerto
if I pull out some heat, nigga, you gon' kick in (kick in)
And that's just the rules set by the fool from the old school
When it's time to duel, you
I got like 30 missed calls
There ain't no going back, I know drifted too far
Scared of that four letter word, always comes back to haunt me
I know
Ayo, ShekThisYours
My word, it's Dexter and Splurge
You don't honor your word
You don't honor your word
Boy, you don't honor your word
Oo Ha! Dexter
called my bro
By the time I came to, the ambulance was hugging road
I told them let me go so they strapped me in some more
Start my day at 5 am and I never
his hand
Food, water, the clothes you wear
How many of y'all niggas really care?
To care
To care
Let's define this word, nigga
Define, define
burnt up like a weenie and his name is Fred
He wears the same hat and sweater every single day
And even if it's hot outside, he wears it anyway
He's
read on the side of the road
The next town is 125 miles away
And these very words came into his mind. He said
By the time I get to Phoenix, she'll
blunts till my arm look like Popeye
Till the day is bye bye
Till then, three hundred G fly by, rented
So foggy windows look tinted
We just be lookin'
onto the track[03:06.59]Spittin by myself and there ain't nothin wrong with that[03:09.30]Feel ambition coming through my skin I need to earn some
in my pocket and at least a grand
Gold on my knuckle, my pistol's closed in hand
I'm a Dogg Pound Gangsta from the LBC
Remotely controlled by
read on the side of the road
The next town is 125 miles away
And these very words came into his mind. He said
By the time I get to Phoenix, she'll
He's burnt up like a weenie and his name is Fred!
He wears the same hat and sweater every single day
And even if it's hot, outside he wears it anyway!
him was not
available so the words and music herein are taken from the sheet music as written
by Stan Jones
Monroes' version, as well as competing
Time: 1:38 | Word Count: 217
THIS SPACE INTENTIONALLY LEFT BLANK / NOTES, ETC
Section II: Oval Office - Roosevelt/Knox Exchange - Intro
more now
It's platinum, now a days we put the gold down
We stepped it up, y'all don't ever want a showdown
Get wetted up by the sleeve that leave
"Karma came back, I had to get mine" (I had to)
I hit the cell by myself, really sick now
But this what it is when you the opposite of (6ix9ine)
A month
pulled out the coupe
Go my hardest 23 with the flu
They still think it's a game it's a fluke
I'm 30 and O
I'm dropping a nuke
Call of duty I'm strapped
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