Lyrics:
M E
I do what I want, I'm free free free
Wiley's my bredrin, he's got an album
Gave it to me for free free free
Put it in my PC, track 16
When it got
off
How, nigga? My last album was The Chronic (nigga)
They wanna know if he still got it
They say rap's changed, they wanna know how I feel about it
off
How, nigga? My last album was The Chronic (nigga)
They wanna know if he still got it
They say rap's changed, they wanna know how I feel about it
stayed on the raps 'til we made it on the map
By then, No I was my main guy
He and I was like Chi-town's Gang Starr
We had came far together, with a long
can fuck with my soul again
They be surrounded by their little men
I be singing to your girl
I'm her only world
If she come around
You know I am a flirt
Who always has beef
He never closes toilet seats
Type of guy, who gropes on all women
Says that white privilege is non existent
A rat piece of shit,
Church is totally gonna diss back
Got bars like a prison
Bet his shit will be a sick track
Let's get followers from it
Apologize and sit back
And try
broken
I ain't't jokin, girl, I'm still in love
The kid is wildin', we thought he would get it down by the third album
But this nigga is still in love
Royce
Of the family I'm a favorite choice
Buddy named Homer, used to be a loner
Now he got a girl by the name of Mona
Now that Homer's marries to Mona
May-December by Mos Def in my headphones, that's the man
I know, I know that I got it if I, do what I gotta do to get by
And they wonder why I never get high
me some shit
About this world
About these girls
And how I dog, my bitch!
My next album was bootleg
Ain even come to the stores
Cause a nigga stole it
lets get it
Naw it all started with "Pillow Talk"
Pillow Talk was 2017
Cause I remember, he dropped my Jordan Year
And I remember I was running through
Wouldn't be where I'm standing if they hadn't have fought for me,
From a nothing rep, now we live busting sets,
So if you own a Hoods album you get nuff
Malcolm out of retirement
He go at me I hit him asap
Take that
Get shot up like a cap gun at a race track (Boom)
He's probably from the part of the Bay that
Yeah
Scary
(Sounds of the sir)
I'm going away for a bit, when I'm back
Nobody's saying my name on a track
When I get nervous, man, I start
Your first mistake was coming
Into my flow zone
You got it wrong like skinny
Dipping with clothes on
Any time I get the chance to spit non stop
I'm
rude
I send for the head top rearranger
Go home and do the math
I'm Jme multiplied by Maxwell Ranger
Way too serious
And if you don't wanna get taken
me and my Mum don't always see eye to eye
But I know that she's always gonna be by my side
And me and my Dad we don't always get on
But he's the most
This that down South Nebsly music
This that Whitney Houston, museum, movin' music
That that Nesbly girl ain't used to
I'm made this album for nebly
It's more than a thick note will hold hey
If I was gonn' talk about
All i have thought of
Then I'm making a track with length of an album
I don't mean
I'm back after a year of not making any albums last year
Y'all are gonna ask me if I'm finna slack again?
My answer is fuck no
I'd want to keep track
I'm back after a year of not making any albums last year
Y'all are gonna ask me if I'm finna slack again?
My answer is fuck no
I'd want to keep track
From the album non album tracks
Five minutes to midnight and the mood is right
A lot of wine, a 'lil music, slow dancing by candlelight
Can't you
Mr. Big Dreams no tolerance
Cut you at the house and haven't hollered since
Get bored quickly
He stay grown
So the p-a-tron had to get poured
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