Lyrics:
the whole weight
Skin needs lotion, teeth need Colgate
Wise up you little burnt-up french fry
I'm that type of guy
And I slammed you know, just like
Aye! What it is lil shawty
Its your boy YoungcashboY
Pull up with da foreign car
Pull up and a foreign broad in the passenger
Pull up with da foreign
friend was killed by a drunk driver
The guy got out of his car
And shot my friend in the face
'Cause I'm beginning to feel
Like a black god, black guy
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
the cars, then we got free
Used to only wanna pull up in a black sport
Just a white man excelling in a black sport
Now I'm really doin' pull ups
Got
album early, call it ultrasound
I might drop another album after i go beyond
Young goat in his prime im M in 99
Living by the palm trees
Always had my
Yeah, what you critics said would never happen
We dedicate this album to anybody people said couldn't make it
To the fans that held us down 'til
Yeah, what you critics said would never happen
We dedicate this album to anybody people said couldn't make it
To the fans that held us down 'til
Yeah, what you critics said would never happen
We dedicate this album to anybody people said couldn't make it
To the fans that held us down 'til
a car jam)
By ventilation units
Where towers meet the streets (in a car jam)
The ragged stand in bags soaking heat up through their feet (in the car jam
rip up flows that
make an MC stop and chill and say HE'S ALL THAT
Hardcore no R&B singer
Roll with the Hit Squad... down with the head banger
SpottieOttieDopaliscious, y'all pop
You thought Krit Wuz Here and R4 were the shit, bitch wait til my album drop (get 'em cuh)
Say that's yo' new car? Nigga that's my old
thought Krit Wuz Here and R4 were the shit, bitch wait til my album drop (get 'em cuh)
Say that's yo' new car? Nigga that's my old slab
Say that's yo' new
enough
Drive-by's, blood-spattered on my shoe, I'm not hood enough
But why cry?
I Waka Flocka Flame, hit your block up
Thug life, it's in my veins, go
up by 6am
up by 6am
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lifestyle ain't changed
It's like wake up, move a brick, half of it slow
Make car money, check with Sheek, go fuck with a ho
I rock a waist-length mink,
New Orleans
And I will never stop like I'm runnin' from the cops
Hopped up in my car and told my chauffeur, "To the top"
Life is such a fuckin'
Now the record's done, it's time for fun
We're moving up the charts
I got good reviews and brand new shoes
Beep beep on my car
Beep beep on my car
had keyed my moms car like 'remember my birthday you bastards'
'94 was the year I turned 7, my mommy ain't give me no presents
Because I was still being
to
Only rapper of the year whose album ain't need a Maglera verse
Unless you the homie the rest of you got spun by him
Every verse for me is like America's
to be music that did it
But then again times have changed man, who are we kiddin'?
I'm managed by my friends that I grew up with
I'd rather give that
wasted
Niggas love tryna put my back where the walls facin'
Big body frames, wasn't into car racin'
Me and Chubbs drive by, shorty heart racin'
I
(Where are you?)
Oh-oh
Oh
The Divine Feminine, an album by Mac Miller
Oh-oh (The Divine Feminine)
(The Divine Feminine) Oh
Am I supposed to?
And you've still got it in your drawer, even now
Oh, your sweet disposition and my wide-eyed gaze
We're singin' in the car, gettin' lost upstate
Autumn
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