Lyrics:
coupe
(hey, Carl.)
You don't know what i got
Talk to me, baby
Talk to me, baby
Well I'm not braggin', babe, so don't put me down
But I've got
fart fucking giggle holy shit Brian stinks
Hey Dale, let me in on a verse, make it work
I'm the king of Holy butts and fucking tooting my turds
Got
Como empezamos
By Los Del Trap
Yea sirr y jálate compa Brian
SMACK THAT S**T Compa J
Me prendemos un gallito
Ando bien grifando
Las bosinas
he took me by the hand
Says he, ""I never saw the likes of MacNamara's Band""
Oh, the drums go bang and the cymbals clang and the horns they blaze
only bleedin' every grain in me
Fans, if it's not for you, there'd be no PE
From the Nashville Skyline
To the homeboys and girls of South Country
In this
After my shows it's a lonely road
So I sit up all by myself trying to cleanse my soul
Nobody's looking at me anyway
Just give me one good time
tell me what's going on
I'll tell you what's goin' on-uh
Nelly:
What's going on 'cross seas
Every minute a child dies by this disease
In record numbers
Brian Holland-Lamont Dozier-Edward Holland, Jr.
Love came through my window and right out the door
Leaving me alone and hurt forever more
Suddenly
that one more time
Hit me with that drum, Brian
Hit me as hard as you can
Oh yes, that's they way I like it
Do it again, do it again, let's do it
it around the corner but me not breathin is a pound of blogna
I keep fightin and I'm tryin to get right in my mind brian
'cause one day I'm gonna see
guys
You don't get me but I don't blame you, I don't get myself
Pressin' on keys got my life so sweet man
Go-Fund me on your bitch's pinned tweet
getting thinner
I know Hell is waiting for me
And there’s nowhere to run
So I just flick the switch and it’s done
When it’s a suicide you can choose your
fiz-ind out?
How can ya fuck a playa, playa haters better listen close
If you try to buck me, bitch, I'm outie with your fucking soul
Yes, the devil's
exposure so
They trying to make me kill 'em, I'm controlling my emotions though
Why you niggas lookin' so surprised? They not supposed to blow?
From
for me
I know I got it in me
So I played the game, he won the game, that's filthy
Derek and Brian, they was tryna convince me
That "Count on Me" was
by the way you're simultaneously playing piano
Pan flute, maracas and a gong next to me right now
It almost makes me regret calling you fat
Stupid,
leechin’ bitches off you
Gotta pay to eat
Caught a STD and gave it to my
Bitch could you pray for me?
Poured a six and drunk it by myself
I had to pay for
Ninja Brian for practice I nailed your blueberry muffins
Oh, but not the one you're eating right now, Brian.
All right, I fucked that muffin too.
You
They gon' try and stop you get it
By any means
Sometimes I wish this shit was simple
Like when I lived on Cymbal
Had my Gameboy Nintendo play me I'ma
[Intro]
Yeah, ha, that's what I'm talkin' about y'all
(All in together now, now)
It's another studio rap production
(What are you doing to me
competitive coke heads and go line for line
Honestly that crap of yours you should raffle off
With me they getting Genius Bars without the Apple store
Under
[J-Love]
Aiyo, I come through like a Chicago Bears linebacker
Call me Brian Urlacher, straight up attack you
Then I backslap you, yeah, ya niggas get flipped
Rudolph, and Prancer
Percocet, molly, and xans (Percy)
Codeine on top of my stand
Right there by the extra handgun
They told me I couldn't, when I can
soul was up for sale
Here me out
This is my testimony
I got multiple identities
Jesus help me please
Split personality, sinful by nature but saved at 23
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