Lyrics:
life, hand in hand.
I'm a stand by my woman man.
We fall asleep at night thinking , ain't love grand.
That's why I'm a stand by my woman man.
When
With clips in the bottom
We dipping through Gotham
Yes eclipsed by the shadows
A dark dance to the coffin
I'm a fellow with melanin
Suspect of a felony
a tree by a river
There's a hole in the ground
Where an old man of aran
Goes around and around
And his mind is a beacon
In the veil of the night
For
a tree by a river
There's a hole in the ground
Where an old man of aran
Goes around and around
And his mind is a beacon
In the veil of the night
For
You can be the fliest man
With a hundred-grand in your hand
Swag right, sag tight
And a Gucci fan
You can be the richest, be the smartest, be
I'm the man you can call me Mr. Beenie
Keep 'em wishin' and I take em back Mr. Genie
Caught the fake, askin' for a feature yea you're feenin'
This year
face at
And the MAC 11 tucked in where da 12 gauge at
When I was 13 had 14 grams of ajax
Turned 15 start spitting 16s
Of straight crack
By 17, 18th
Live by the gun die by the same shit you bust
Fly bitches with waves from DC to Cali
Rally and tally up my dough
For the grand finale
Grapevines
the roaches in my ashtray
Say man, you niggas think y'all crafty, huh?
Sitting in my car, adjusting my music
Telling me how sweet my car is and all
so much paper but I know
That I know that you a liar liar liar liar
Let a grand hang out, let a grand hang out
Dip deep into your pockets, let
[chorus]
Yo mamma yo daddy yo greasy greasy grand mammy
Man they gettin wild as fuck era body gettin crunk [x2]
Gimme room gimme room quit
to shorty
He gon' take it like a man
Commissary fat when you come home
You get 100 grand
Woah, woah, woah
Doot! Doot! Doot! Doot! Doot! Doot!
Doot! Doot!
em in a mess,
Had a little rest,
DXB is the brand, I got it stitched to the chest.
Made by Muhammad, gotta stick to the text.
All the buttons I
that Glock, man
Still let that motherfucker pop, man
21
See Savage he be with them apes
Play with this shit, you get ate
Bitch, I be covered in
All these freaks got too many options
Lightskin shorty but her homegirl chocolate
Booty look good in them fashion nova jeans
Acting like a lady but
And me, gunslinger, clips, cock D
My fashion on, I'm rocking 'em new Rasheeds
I'ma finish ya, go in brother like Mr. Cee
You could find me fucked up like
I'm the man
I'm the man
I'm the man
Finna keep on grindin make a millie from a grand
Always find a way I ain never been in debt
They juh hand me
Got a key to the city, and a street in my name
(I think I need my own parade)
(I think I need my own parade)
The club that wouldn't let me in back in
supa fly still ice my whole band up
Still hit cha man up still got my grands up
And rather flowin on tha beat
Or i catch u in tha street
Bitch i still
to Meeeexico
Called up my mama, said I'm in love with a stripper, yo
Ten grand, let me see you shake it like you got no
bones in your body and you was
to Meeeexico
Called up my mama, said I'm in love with a stripper, yo
Ten grand, let me see you shake it like you got no
bones in your body and you was
to Meeeexico
Called up my mama, said I'm in love with a stripper, yo
Ten grand, let me see you shake it like you got no
bones in your body and you was made
generation
Destroyed by madness
Starving, hysterical, naked
Angel headed hipsters
Burning for the ancient heavenly connection
To the starry dynamo in
come back in
They know who it is ‘cause it’s the man Zach, and
When you say my name please present in grand fashion
‘Cause the numbers stacked like
_(3389753520).jpg/300px-End_of_Fashion_@_Fly_By_Night_Club_(20_3_2009)_(3389753520).jpg "End of Fashion")
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