Lyrics:
This isn't your average song
This isn't your average song
Your average song is three minutes long with a consistently smooth groove
a catchy tune
I cry when I listen to your album
With a heavy heart, and heavy soul
It reminds that at times we all get lonesome
We don't know where we want to go
Betrayed by clenched hands.
Wear your smile like a mask.
Your tightened fists, they give your heart away.
I don't mean to rush, or be obvious,
But my
album on their shopping cart
And supposedly now everyone knows waste plan by heart
I gave everybody a fresh start
Cause remember in four people were mad
fuckin' his baby mum, in the living room, with his son (yeah)
If three man try link up and do a album
It's not gonna sound like this
Tryna sound like
on the road, neck and wrists on froze (say word)
Checks with O's, O-O-O-O-O's
Straight all across the globe, watch got three time-zones
Keep the digital phone
I wanted to tell you when you sat in the back of that philosophy class
But I couldn't bring myself to do it
Because those three damn words ended my
Late nights when my son asleep
I'm workin' by myself Dolo all up on my street
Nobody on my block 'cus I be workin' way passed three
And when I'm
(Quincy tell 'em)
Everybody's asking, "When the album's coming out?
What you rapping 'bout? What's the album called?
Who you got on there? What
heart like Melissa, look
There's terrorist on American soil
Hilarity is just hysterics that's foiled by clarity
And I laugh at the lack of the morals,
And I seen right through ya body (cold heart)
Ride it 'til you catch a child (child, child)
How the hell a snake drive spineless?
Pockets filled up
Shutup yo, yo, yo, yo
My life's not right [check one]
My life's not right [check two]
My life's not right [check three]
Are you ready?
(You
words nigga duffel bags I just know it so well
I can't help but brag, old man got 10 mail man got 3
And just your luck the rap game got me hold up
man got 10 mail man got 3
And just your luck the rap game got me hold up
[Juelz Santana]
Here we go again just spent a hundred of that brown paper
Hey boy
I know you deceive me
Counting your cards
You pick up the three of hearts
Sometimes
I don't feel so lucky
Chosen by a heart
On a shelf
straight
Burnouts in a closed space
Still blow the O's, but it's no vape
Homie album like a mixtape
Now he follow orders that I dictate
Chances are you gon'
I raised two whole kids on my own
Three whole years mane look how they've grown
Both of them my heart and heart is my home
I don't wanna give all
OUT OF MY HANDS
Verse 1
Her heart is all she’s giving me I made a promise to keep
Feels like i’m in too deep
In way over my head
I told her I would
like a pharmacy
M3 the Heart of the City
I'm a little vain cause I'm the artery
But they can have the heart of me
But'll have to fight with my daughter
Start this album out by saying
I love you p-red
I wish you weren't dead
Fucck a piece of lead
One time he carried an
AR across a persons lawn
In his
Prolly why promoters felt like we didn't deserve to get paid
We were loved by some hated by many
Years pass growing up now, we just met Benny
Fan base
constructed by a particular mix of chemical elements
Together minerals have an ordered atomic arrangement
Yes they are a chemical
They are usually formed by
fear
I snatched your heart
Put it way up on the chart
At ten you're fucked
At nine you suck
At eight you're a sucker
At seven-a mothafucka
At six
resident
Resident supported by the speaker view
Want to feel it in your shoe
Let me show you how
Platform witnesses
Witnesses, show you to my show-lab
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