Lyrics:
Who dat running through your view?
Who dat mobbing with his crew?
Who dat talk it like he walk like he got something to prove
Want an album? Give 'em
I just hit a lick, and dipped, out the door with the cash
No getaway driver, no gun and no mask (Heh)
Sly deSilva, the corporate crime killer
Went up
(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
waiting for another door, the one where I find home
And I'm alright, I promise
I'm being real honest
Just listen to this album with me
And I'm alright, I
Come on
We gon' see it through
More than just an album, this is DS2
Gotta be ready to go as soon as He said move
Rebuking any evil and them demons
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
it, chop it and cook it
See how shit come back round for ya? (Yeah)
Gotta kick in the oven now watch it bubble
And you can knock on my door
But you
For your boy
I'm watchin' Freaks and Geeks with the trampoline on the floor
I'm tryna pop the McLaren with the vertical doors nigga
Money,
when they see me
They get all shook up when my mic's hooked up
Let's get it on!
[chorus]x2
Untouchables at your door
(Let's get it on)
All
Oh yeah you know where I'm from
You know where I stay
Nigga, I'm posted in the A
Sittin low in my phantom ridin high
Every time I ride by nigga, I'm
by the door
When you'll leave me, I'll be poor
You'll see me lying on the floor
When I can't take it anymore
Roses blossom, roses die
I don't want
the calendar design
Wilderness tours, guided for and by the blind
Cool ruler standing still sweating through the shades
He knew those lights only grew bright
Invisible Man, these are the Memoirs
I'm lyrical man, the pigeons I send y'all
A bird of prey, deep with every word I say
Pure as a virgin girl
Cure for
EarDrummers mike WiLL Made-It
Half a year later
Still ain't heard an album greater (yo)
The natives want me out of the office
Back on the pavement
the club
We throwed them hunnids not no ones
Throwing them hunnids we fuck them
Whole by the firm
Step in the club
Pocket full of hundred, no ones
Choppa
wouldn't grab the gun
And at that time I wasn't thinkin about no one
Damn near crazy I went and grabbed the baby
Held him by the door and said i'ma throw his
of doom
Once I’m stunned
Taking everybody out one by one
This is the outcome, of the whole album
I’m am so proud I’m done, I’m done
One more time as we all
Thankful for the Chi is not an album
It's a musical
And we refuse to play with anything that isn't true to who we are
Doors use to close on us
Now they stay
I feel like its nuanced
By the finer things, every girl I meet want diamond rings
So they all turn into a fling
But show me, how are you different
A growing sickness in the heart
Distinctive lack of control
The cure is somewhere in the silence
But I'm crushed by the noise inside
Don't lock
your close door
Close door
Politician used and refused
But we won't take no more
Never let you take advantage of the poor
While di youths dem in
Played to the left by def and I'm gonna eff up the right half
The sucker descendant of Canaan, I'ma let my pizzazz wreck
I'm speakin this to the devil that
and checked behind each door.
Still in Saigon
Still in Saigon
I am Still in Saigon in my mind!
The ground at home was covered with snow. And I was
Ever been on the block?
Red lights, cars stopped
Walk by hear the pop
Of a door lock opt
To look em in the eye and
You're shocked
Ignored by the guy
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