Lyrics:
bending at their knees
Even when they're wearing skinny jeans
This is the swag of a monster
The one who couldn't be bothered
To come out on time
Cause I was
protected by my ancestors
Life is a blessing
Fully accepting my progression
If I don't I'm a hear it
You gotta walk into your greatness
And you gotta be
nuts, then I (yeah)
Check my ball hair (what?), make sure it's all there (yeah)
Then call the pallbearer (yeah)
It's Music to Be Murdered By again, why
people who thought I had it way more than I did
Others thought I would be stagnant just like a horizon
And because of those I keep on risen' like I'm
at Wendy's
In a burgundy Bentley
Years if writing, plus twenty
Thinking they would commend me
Man, these verses are curses
My own families against me
Before
upon my chin
By the hairs of my peachfuzz
Let's say each was an inch
Psych! Because I can't pull or pinch
It's a wrench
And I thought life would be
the corner and when she came
I grabbed her by the arm and I asked her name
She said it was Anita and her man's in Santa Rita
I took her to my house
the corner and when she came
I grabbed her by the arm and I asked her name
She said it was Anita and her man's in Santa Rita
I took her to my house
of sins, I would be able
To meet your purity and I’m not alone
While in this world, in the 21st century
All traditional values are stained with dirt
I always
to be
Runnin' this rap shit, it's WHMG
I wish a nigga would say hood in
The presence of a nigga that
Just don't give a fuck, you better level up
(Flash
matter-fact we suggest it
You won't be let down by the King, Mr. Majestic
The Son of God one of a wide selection
But who else has a check in the column for
instead
I just want to walk with Buford's head
I just want to walk with Buford's head!"
Everybody's freed by the Bagman
Everybody's headed to the cow-man
In rhythmic patterns, lyrically clever
Laid over an instrument and a drum beat
Would be idolised locally called an Emcee
Body movement and flow in
the man, I don't quit
Dinner wit you, Santa Monica beach
Wondering how you fit that in yo jeans
God damn
You don't need a toy when I got the real thang
move "Tell me you would miss me
Tell me you will miss me
Okay, Kevin, then prove it to me, uh, kiss me
Probably be on the news tomorrow if
You'd dare
clowns
By the way, who the hell is that
That is Mr. Marcia, our explosive
Ordnance expert. If it can be Blown up, he can do it
Damn straight and your new
of God go you
You'll be merry
I'll be merry
Tho merry ain't in my vocabulary
No sleighbells
No Santa Claus
No yule log
No tinsel
No holly
No hearth
No
her by the arm and I asked her name
She said it was Nina and her man's in Santa Rita
I took her to my home and homeboy, I geed her
Set her on the way
That boy not a shooter for real
I got niggas who still posted up in the trap and they prolly gone lose it for real
And that's prolly where I'mma be
of some tumors, that's a lot of cancer
Or a lot of banter
Don't know if my son'll be disappointed or surprised after he finds out I'm Santa (yeah)
In
free
Led by thoughtless masses
Who would lead us astray
The truth is easy to find
For those with the will to fight
With this foundation we will rise
Minnesota
I tell you, it's the biggest ball of twine in Minnesota
Oh, what on earth would make a man decide to do that kind of thing?
Oh, windin' up
Minnesota
I tell you, it's the biggest ball of twine in Minnesota
Oh, what on earth would make a man decide to do that kind of thing?
Oh, windin' up
of existence
But we never really think of who gifted
To be frank, it don't make sense
More Christ, less regrets
Born once so I could twice
The sins on snow, man
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