Lyrics:
But I think I missed my chance
All these boys come in from out of town
With their boots and cocaine highs
I may be too drunk to two-step
But I'm not too
(I'm a real Welsh boy but I don't speak Welsh)
(Free man, but they want me in a cell)
(It's mad mad)
(mad mad)
Boom bam New York just landed
Man
the feelin boots the house down
Cuz Imma be a good boy tonight
Yes eyes this guy
Hit me wit a contact on sight
Yes eyes yes I
Met a lotta good men in my life
on 'em
Dope money with a band on it
Half gold, we got a hand on it
D-boys still ball the same
Just gotta little bit of glam on it
Yah
I got flames
been kissed
Never been kissed by a lady called Amy
You're far out, you're fab and insane
A woman of the world, it's quite plain
My dad told me Amy's
big for your boots
Big boy remember to stay in tuned
You can take different roots in life
Just remember your roots
Whats my roots? Im jamican
Rasta
the message
These hollows like WiFi we boot up they connectin
For anybody, anybody disrespecting
We was bout money boys, but now we be them 7’s
I be going ham
I
me on your tape
Press rewind, maybe two times or three times
Here to rhyme
To blind your mind like Moonshine
Biggie Smalls got bitches in Brazil, boy
wanna boot it
Pierce armour like Cupid
Don’t make me lose it
My nicca just pull out the uzi Yh he wanna use it
Better mind what you say when you talk
blues baby just like that
When I get back to my
Roots, boots, cowboy hats
Well I don't mind getting dressed to the nines sometimes
But you can tell by
Yeah
Mazi
Stop playing
Them boys don't know bout me
Them boys don't know about me
Call Squeeze if it's pressure
He go blow by me
He on go bout me
really going on
Make it look like a lot of stealing going on
Boy them cops is killers in my home
Nigga shot dead in the middle of the street
I ain't no
perms!
niggas, get your hands of your cracks, come to terms with yourself
If you don't get any bigger
Pink Caddy driving, black boot stomping
Yes! I'm that
perms!
niggas, get your hands of your cracks, come to terms with yourself
If you don't get any bigger
Pink Caddy driving, black boot stomping
Yes! I'm that
down one by one
But everyone I try to fight
My boys will back me up all night
As I drop my bottles on my boots
I'm old, and I'm getting weaker
And I'll
it's game time they be shaking in they boots
Wanna get me on the phone don't hit my line hit my two way
I'm always on the move check my schedule I'm only
I drove my Saracen through
Your garden last night
I kicked your front door
Down around at midnight
Oh something's telling me boy
You're avoiding me
my boots
Got it laced, fuck up out my face
Who, lost? Got it, force
I'ma floss, Norway, Voss
Yeah, that's water, boy
Call me the water boy
Like
by the shore
The whitewater drank us quickly
Our ship tangoed with the rocks
And with our ship those ancient seas
Drank the Egyptian engine boy
I had
Boots with no laces stuffed in my jeans
Boots with no laces belt buckle on me
Pocket full of faces got a grin me
and I'm ready for it
Tell by the way
might slice in your gut
Leave your blood in a pool by your boots
I wont cap I'm on cruel shit
Get a bag you chasing a bitch
Ima hit my dance, you stay
creekside in a beach chair
I need a little outside in this country boy's heart
I need dirt on my truck
I need dirt on my roads
I need dirt on my boots
boots off, Great Sir Galahad; for by your astounding beauty
Whatever ground you stand on turns to holy ground.
Galahad took off his boots and he
in the swamps
One of 'em a great big old boy
One of 'em kinda short, not too big
Lived back in the swamps down by the river
This particular
_(cropped).jpg/229px-Little_Boots_01_26_2018_-3_(25273793597)_(cropped).jpg "Little Boots")
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