Lyrics:
your dead by manana
Pop babies whisperin' that there's a body dropped, behind the lot
Police blew up the spot and locked the whole block
Medina is
aint even listening to your new album cause it probably fuckin sucks No actually I aint had enough. Your buff I duck duck don't give a fuck Im a yung
aint even listening to your new album cause it probably fuckin sucks No actually I aint had enough. Your buff I duck duck don't give a fuck Im a yung
an album can change a nigga's life around
I got friends and bitches on my dick
But when they look at Richard all they see is Bushwick
Sometimes I don't know
I hustle to get it my kids gotta eat man I'm putting my people on Momma
I hustle to get it my kids gotta eat man I'm putting my people on Momma need a new house Babies need some new shoes
I went and bought a new chain I
Rap ain't nothin' but cash, money, bitches, foreign cars and trees
Cristal by the cases, bad bitches by the flocks
I know I promised my niggas I'd
Ayo, I break bread, ribs, hundred dollar bills
Peel on Ducatis and other four wheels
Write a book full of medicine and generate mills
Tour the album
Ain't not Kanye album for this level of inspiration
Sights on target mirror is who i'm facing
You leave me out of breath with your posts feel like
polar
How I did 4 albums by myself Im certainly anti social
How I didn’t cry when you did your time
Im surely psycho social
And I came from Social Circle
Inna Bando we cookin' dickhead snitchin' you see me lurk on block you trippin
Catch a enemy bun them the next week end
His face on a news he's
I'm makin' lately
Ain't it crazy
The kid with the twisted face
The new face of Shady
White Bentley trucks, guts was blue suede
Shit was all bulletproof
salon
So her beauty is strong rockin like Louis Vuitton
Cause these dudes never wanna see the new kid signed (No)
They always wanna shine like the sun
Yahweh
Selassie eye and I'm proud to say, I never need a 9 by my waist
Niggas still respect my game so celestials respect my space
And I just might be in
Verse 1:
Carrbian I, classy down, headed for a while, beat this bitch by a mile
Cowboy bow push powder through the nile
New legs have green gator
the name of a.n.g
And i come from the streets
Known at Starling park
As the new kid on the block
That was
Bullying Pete
Then I just
Came to the mainstream
Wind in my hair, I was there
I remember it all too well
Photo album on the counter, your cheeks were turnin' red
You used to be a little kid with
touch, it's rough tackle
When niggas ball on your block, and they buss at you
The fields' fill of players, and they all tryin' to score
The whole team
Let's bring it back to them blocks off the new lots
Who a cop, nigga? I started from the shoe box
You grew a lot
But I schooled you how to do drops
In my
for the kid
A lot of up and comers cool but don't compare em to the kid
I'm about 4 5 seconds from wildin' word to ye and Rhianna and Paul McCartney
I'm living
I just be chilling and flexing
Cause I worked toward my spot
White kid from the suburbs
And I rap
The people look a lot
If life's a piece
I was crossing over second street
View was looking heavenly
Drifting from reality and dreaming of some better things
Kid with some broken wings
Guess
don't stop
My mind, my mind
Tic, Tic, Toc
Just kids on the block
Ain't too worried about the hands on the clock
Some kids wake up with their hands
the blocks from the east to the west (west)
It ain't no secret, down south is the shit (down south)
Yeah, New Orleans gone, yeah, New Orleans fucked (fucked)
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