Lyrics:
probably know by now
I'm flying and I'm only getting higher
When you do what you do
I'll never touch the ground
I'm going up, going up for you now
Seems
like God's testing my patience
Overthinking conversations yeah
Write a little find my mental
Still I'm feeling stuck
Sentimental instrumental
Throw my
play
(Instrumental break)
You son of the devil, all in my face
Giving me things I thought I could take
Only for me to realise
By your venom I'm
said there must be a mistake
how can my son not be straight
after all I've said and done for him
Leavin' home on a Greyhound bus
cast out by the ones he
twisted sideways
And I'm the head honcho, sport golden tonsils
Inventing new styles all the time like pronto
Four by four, runnin' over suckers like
As I walk by the seaside
As I walk through the grass
I see little bluebirds
Making love while I pass
Bees are hummin' and they're singin'
renewed
You'll know me in the morning by the smile that I wear
When I meet you in the morning
In the city that is built four square.
--- Instrumental ---
pirates
Telling tales of trails left by the gods
Through the center of the sun when they passed the spot
Jesus Christ was really an ancient astronaut
I
fold
Me and Bill Clinton want to bust in those on homeless 14 years old (she's young)
Doin drive by's in fuckin pink caddies
Tie you up and beat you
Section 8, Smoke-A-Lot'll stay placed in Berlin
By the end of 9-8, hell yeah
Then I'll be straight
Fuck off a hundred G's and still got money up in
It's all about the tempo
It's all about the tempo
I do what I want
I do what I want
On top of this instrumental
Ahead of the game and official
Don't
New York big city of dreams
And everything in New York ain't always what it seems
You might get fooled if you come from out of town
But I'm down by
to the side
Betting on a dream
By betting my reality
Begging a higher power in a plea
‘Breathes’ just fucking let me be happy
Lusting for anything
That adds
You can have the bitch nigga, I ain't sentimental
Smoke weed and freestyle, no instrumental
Been out, lived through the wicked streets of P.A.
ready for that (Statik)
Detroit vs. Everybody
Uh, I took a bite out the rotten apple by the poison tree
All these females need to email to make noise
You can have the bitch nigga, I ain't sentimental
Smoke weed and freestyle, no instrumental
Been out, lived through the wicked streets of P.A.
in the fast lane going 98
By now I know she can smooth operate me
I'd know now she's no goody two shoes
But hey, I got myself nothin' to lose
Oh
Sentimental sentiments
You could've been the keeper of the flame
Incidental incidents
Instrumental instruments
Swallowed by the place from which you came
This food for thought is clogging my trap.
Principal's looking ready to snap.
Dazed by the slow clock time to choose.
Too tired to sit fishing for
wszystko wyjebane
Mundial 98 no i wkręt na Braziliane
Trawniki przeorane okna powybijane
Zrobiliśmy z podwórka osiedlową Maracanę
Kostki poskręcane rekordy
ja ego fly fly
Stoisz mi na drodze ał ał
Robię blau blau dym blau blau dym
Za bardzo kocham siebie by słuchać jak mam żyć
Tylko ja ja ego fly fly
Czasem mam siano
Czasem mam go za mało
Pierdolę to więc idę na całość (ta)
Pierdolę ropę leje 98
Pierdolę tanie trunki
Black Black Johnny Walker
up[00:43.96]Condemned to the stake[00:45.79]It's not a phase[00:47.41]It's the last word by[00:49.45]New modern false braves[00:51.43]The rebel sound[00:53.32]Is coming
100 Days went by
You learned so much in this time
Let's count all the days
You and I
First by 1s and then by 5s
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11,
Discuss these instrumental by 98 Lyrics with the community:
Report Comment
We're doing our best to make sure our content is useful, accurate and safe.
If by any chance you spot an inappropriate comment while navigating through our website please use this form to let us know, and we'll take care of it shortly.
Attachment
You need to be logged in to favorite.
Log In