Lyrics:
club, shoot, stab, sell crack
Straight like that
We eat, sleep, shit street life
Straight like that
We get knocked by the same ?
Straight like that
Good evening, and welcome to eazy's playhouse
You stupid muthafucka
Now that you got the album
What the fuck are you gonna do with it
Bitch
rap seven years, no ransom
Can't one nigga get it back no rap
Young Hov's goin' to Canton, I'm now eligible
Point out the bounce, and show you how
and four chords repeated
Completed by a relatable lyrical concept about an ex or something
This isn't for the masses
It's for the
musically analytical
So
running home
I call collect get me a 38, now bitch is on
9 millimeter, baretta to 40 cal
By 23 fresh up out the box, bitch I hold it down
I hit
Sarajevo
But I make sure their albums make a peso
Dashie's getting slammed by snow
6 inches on the western portion, it'll blow
If I were a Monstercat artist,
of Cawdor coming for the king, bitch, better look out (Oh)
Then I told them I had album of the year they said it was profound
Listen to the sound (what, what)
Woah, tats on my face I will never have a desk job
But I just got promoted by ya bitch, I got the head job
She ain't Jeff Bezos but I swear she got
to look like a Khalid album cover
American teen now and forever
Hold my breath and close your eyes
Never take the time to realize
That in a year or two
twenty five
My first million by twenty five at the very least
so thatll be in seven years
So Ill be a multimillionaire in ten years
Confused by this world
and
Straight shit like Notorious B.I.G. did to that bitch
On his skit on his last album
Pull my pants downward
I'll shit on you
(I will shit on you, I
later
I'm Mr. motherfucker Mr. moneymaker
I'm Mr. make your bitches day by how I break her
Get this bitch up off me, get this bitch up off me
Get this
needle on the record
And everybody check it, cause I never been affected
By what they say
It's been a whole lot of years since I shed tears
For my
her Christmas
Cute bitch, sun-kissed, call that citrus
I can double your salary with one album
No I ain't rich, but money ain't a problem
When it comes
a few notes
He can't rap, or sing, but he wants to do both
Puts an album out and rules for part of the year
Then Kid Rock and Limp Bizkit come from out
Vvvs man that shine for the hoes
Neck jury dat bitch on froze
Why the fuck my songs so cold
Whole year and I still ain't fold
I can really feel
Monopoly
[Verse 2]
'Cause when the rappers start grindin'
It's a shame, a out-of-towner gotta sign them
But when his album drop and he go diamond
Everybody
One, Two, Three, Four, Five
Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, ten
Are you ready!
Další rok další album sick byl
Jsem a dál budu sick
Uplynulej rok byl sick
(Drop the fucking album!)
(Bro, you've been talking about this album for months, when are you going to drop it?)
(Seriously, si-six, seven months
shoulder... ? Aw, you're fulla shit, man... ah, listen, by the way, before I go on; did you get those white albums I sent ya with the pencil on the front... ?
and grand slam em
Cause they were fishy like salmon
Meaning your wife is married to real bitch
Or you should get your gown on
Until the last surviving human
can
Only
Go as far as you want to
You can
Only
Go as far as you want to
Nowadays I ain't got time to sleep
My mind going 24 hours a day
That's 7 days
Smoking on gorilla glue it’s mad sticky
Nowadays it’s hard to find some gas that really can get me
Yes bitch by twenty seven really did plan Bentley
For my
Man, that's crazy
I dropped the tape before 2020
Back in January
6 months and only 7 songs
Come on, you think I need that long
Well I was wrong
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