Lyrics:
a lotta people getting hopeless
World is hateful and ferocious
No doubt this world atrocious
Getting foul but we in the bonus
God is for us who can oppose
the world is yours
Ain't no mo' struggles my nigga and no mo' stripe
I kept it real because to me it's UGK for life
Ain't no mo' struggles my nigga and no mo' stripe
I kept it real because to me it's UGK for life
really take a lot for most of these people to put on what they put on
Unless you're one of those people who rap all day and dedicate their life to music
blissfully around a bonfire and
sacrifice life's sanity Pay a nickel for nose-bleed seats in a peanut gallery
Gallop with a Pegasus, malice with no benefits,
an acronym
Flow so trill I should patent it
Never serve bubble rap when I package it
Blows by the truckload when the track is sent
In other words, you all
Nothing is permanent
Life is short
Gimme one second
Celebrated for the words up in my sentence
Breathing like its endless
Beat me to the punchline
Beat me
for y'all
And my voice is messed up too, this is the last track of Young Sinatra
Yeah, yeah
Back in the day I wasn't shit, homie
Penny pinching I
I took her in my Chevy with no lights on
Got some gold chains wrapped around her ankle
Dutch dates I don't pay for
Independent with her own life bro
Bugs back to back eyyo Bezzy back to back eyyo
Outfit black on black eyyoAlbum track by track eyyo
Everybody outside the hood tell a friend
Iseb ist
the free-throw line and bang
Now, I bust and crush tracks, nothin' really changed
Except, twelve-inch scars on my body
What I mean by that, I was hit by some
confusin', I'm losin' my brain in this music
Who the fuck is stupid enough to produce a track by a rapper with no talent
Who has no room for improvement
It's
performing it in schools, that I do not condone smoking. Guitars on this track, and on three other tracks on the album, are by Daniel Tan, my long-time
(uh-uh)
Still rock my khakis with a cuff and a crease (for sho')
Still got love for the streets, reppin' 213 (for life)
Still the beats bang, still doin'
Shout out to that boy Slim Shady for all the love, yeah!
(Sinatra)
Tell me what you know about real life
Tell me what you know about dark nights
between animal thoughts and what was taught by Confucious
B-boy lucid
Ugly motherfucker for faces of art addicts
Just for my people
Persecute plagiarist
all night
Got a track down complete in verse
Been to beat doctor seen swag nurse
Now it's on a shelf like a pharmacy
My anti-depressant mp3
For whatever
Audio Ratio for 10 years prior to my new tenure
With an old modified laptop in a shed closet
I've been paid to record and produce tracks for others,
pack ya track and do 5 flat in your Dodge son
Now let my canine backtrack the copy-cat
Your night life is up, so what you had, you gotta sound track
(uh-uh)
Still rock my khakis with a cuff and a crease (for sho')
Still got love for the streets, reppin' 213 (for life)
Still the beats bang, still doin'
aiming for the ceiling floor
Album number 4 I’m just running up the score I can feel it in my core steady creeping in the door
Niggas hate the way I
for this territory
Makin our life one big story to tell
Reality amongst the youth, long as, breath is in my body
I got proof, I'm not scared
If
life, just doubt it's what I'll die for
I wish I had time for, people with no strings
Attached, but seems like everyone's a puppet in this bitch
I see
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