Lyrics:
enough
I'd take my heart, I'd wrap it up
(I'd wrap it up)
Santa's on his way
And there's hope in the air
But he could skip our house baby
I wouldn't care
is bein' left behind
I'm goin' crazy in this place
And I'm countin' the days, cause I'm about to be a mental case
My little son is gettin' bigger
a loan
Denied by the bank for a loan
Yup, so I got a shoe box full of cash
And I paid for the whole damn house on my own
Bitch, do you want a mouth full
Little house in the sky
When your light bounce off my eyes
Cold on the out
But my heart, theres a fountain of fire
Listen to my choir
Lay back
and lips, fingertips and hips (woo)
Bad little thing hangin at the ocean
'Malibu' style, Pacific coastin
Waitin on the pimpin to sail in
And them gang
a livin' he's a 'Lousiana
man Muskrat hides hangin' by the dozen,
even got a little bitty muskrat cousin Got 'em out
dryin' in the hot hot sun,
tomorrow
in here by my lonely
Got a couple fake friends that'd say they know me
And they did once right now tho they ain't know me like that
Changed up for
Gizzle load that whip
I'm about to go in
Show these flossin' niggas
Ain't about that action
Not to play around
With grown men
First I scold them like
How
that pack (Told me turn)
Now-now it's somewhere in the sea (Aye)
I rip my 23's rudeboy I can tell you 'bout doors and hinges (One)
CPS tryna get papers
ducked my ass in it for a minute
Covered with trash I had to lay back
Mad as fuck, thinkin' about the payback
Tonight the crew gonna have a little fun
ducked my ass in it for a minute
Covered with trash I had to lay back
Mad as fuck, thinkin' about the payback
Tonight the crew gonna have a little fun
Dude
Yeah, yeah, chillin' in some shorts
Sippin' on a cold one, sittin' on the porch
Only chopsticks, I don't ever use a fork
Go for it, little dork,
in the air
My moms know that I'm a player
Look at my chain
Now she wanna call me by my name
Living life gang
Impressed 'cause I got my own strain
Left
Of the ruins of the city that their parents grew up in
We never have newspapers in the house
My husband refuses to pay to bring home lies
He says the less we
I was riding in a winnebago
Keepin' my circle small like a little bagel
Built it brick by brick like we playing lego
And I don't give a fuck what you
Crack my head open on your kitchen floor
To prove to you that I have brains
Meanwhile tin men are led by little girls
Down golden roads that lead
your problem, I'm the topic of the talk again
Half a dollar to my name I hustle more than many men
Good God I'm gracious
Whipping dope in a pale now,
of you
I went wandering
I went drifting
Through the capitals of tin
Where men can't walk
Or freely talk
And sons turn their fathers in
I stopped
on in, please take off your shoes
Everybody, welcome to my house of blues
Make yourself comfortable kick your feet back
Don't forget to leave your shoes by
until they drop I can't get no rest
Cause those that also feel me feel well to the flesh, in my life
[Chorus]
[Z-Ro]
Can I get a little rest, cause I
up high
By my mother with twigs
That curl around
The black trim frame and hang
Red berries cover
Some of the farmer's faces
We sit, the twelve of us
on heights, wishing for Nikes in different flavors
The age of Kane and Big Daddy, short-body Caddys
Uncles named Larry, that really never grabbed me
My
cleanin houses
or migrating to catch each season of work:
canning salmon in Alaska
or picking asparagus in Washington
were not the dreams of Asian men
blessed to have met and developed a relationship with my two sisters, brother, and a couple of cousins when I was in my 40s. The relationship continues
Discuss these men in little houses by my epic 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