Lyrics:
thank you, bro)
I'm proud, man, now you can get back to your album and focus, man
Man, I know you couldn't do as much as you, you know you really
caught without a witness
When my album drop just like your body then it's ending
This a whole new era
Saint gon' bring the terror
925 my silver I ain't got
Made over 2 mil, never had a shoe deal, everything is too real, never had a crew still.
Play with the sharks, Stop by the light. See a fresh Benz
shit
But then she told me that was from an Arctic Monkey song
I said, what album is it on
She said, it's on the one with
Why'd you only call me, why
nun left stop me
Struck by the lightning nun left shock me
Giant or maybe a saint I'm shockey
Spit how I live this ain't no copy
I know your spirit
fuckin' way
But here I am, workin' in the studio
And your album ain't out because you're movin' slow
By the time you make one I'll be on ten
Hit the studio
lay back and let my mind start to trip
By me D-Loc, call me stoner of the crew
If your fuckin' with my stash then I'm fuckin' with you
Saint Dog's got
ain't yours
I know y'all poor, y'all broke
Y'all job just hanging up clothes
Step to me, get burnt like toast
Mothafuckas, adios, amigos
Hop, hop,
ain't yours
I know y'all poor, y'all broke
Y'all job just hanging up clothes
Step to me, get burnt like toast
Mothafuckas, adios, amigos
Hop, hop,
at the same spot over by Seaside, yeah
Saint Feddy, E Buddha representing from the East side
Seen a lotta shit while we chillin by Seaside
I said it all
a bike
Lemme change your life
Baby come and slide by slide by slide
I could do you right don't waste my time
We'll be taking private flights riding all
your space
But forget your face, I swear I will
Saint Bart, Saint Bulla anywhere I chill
Just bring wit me a pair, I will
I can see us holding
at the lowest point of your life
And thats okay
Thats why for this album there is no specific niche
I did not limit this album to one sound bc I don't perceive
in Saint Tropez
Sex on the beach
I can't be waiting for you
Babygirl I got too much to lose
Still gone rock your body
Baby let me ease your mind
We
On some Bobby shit, I wanna know what Whitney need
All that puppy love was over in y'all late teens
Why you never hold your son and tell him, "Say
niggas
Flow like dro, I pull then clip it or mix it with some moet then sip it
Then turn around and flip it, shit on your whole album wit a snippet
comes
My warehouse eyes, my Arabian drums
Should I put them by your gate
Or, sad-eyed lady, should I wait?
With your sheets like metal and your belt
comes
My warehouse eyes, my Arabian drums
Should I put them by your gate
Or, sad-eyed lady, should I wait?
With your sheets like metal and your belt
Yeah, for your eyes only (for your eyes)
For your eyes only, for your eyes only (for your eyes)
For your eyes only
Hey, niggas be dying
The Sinner and the Saint
Have mercy us sinners can't all become saints
Heaven's gate is open I can hardly wait
Thought you'd walk with me every step
Man, like-
Why is Lipton iced tea too good man
Ah
It looks like you lost another one
Okay, quick sit I'm going to run this shit
Making another album
Verse 1: Po3
I’m motivated by the notion of being overrated or under-appreciated for greatness
I know the matrix, with the numbers on the screen I
Every word that you hear, I invented
I've been living like a king
I ain't worried 'bout a thing
I've just been bumpin' that, this why your girl
to a user (Nah)
That's my position, opposition can't maneuver
That's a clue to why I'm
Sittin' in position to manure (Pfft)
No Kamasutra, get your karma, you
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