Lyrics:
got it like that
Just kidding we broke, but my Boys deserve that
No Louis V, Gucci cause my name ain't Lil Tunechi
This flow full of energy, Trump
"Karma came back, I had to get mine" (I had to)
I hit the cell by myself, really sick now
But this what it is when you the opposite of (6ix9ine)
A month
that he could've
Bawled us out and told us never to be seen drivin' garbage around in the
Vicinity again, which is what we expected
But when we
throw your boy no bands, I had to run my own up
My lil' partner catchin' bodies, he get money, road run
Talkin' cray until he solo, then that's when we
our heads noddin like we dozin or we TIPSY
But we ain't been drankin may'n
Nah this song just bangin may'n
Got us screamin JESUS out the window while
of discussion
And I stay in trouble just to show these suckers I ain't lost it
And I'd do it all again that's the funny thing about it
I ain't playing, boy I'm
gone
If you talk about my little girl in a song again
I'ma kill you (I'ma kill you)
Aiight look...
So this is what we ask of our fans
If you ever see
I'm an OutKast, a misfit, a loaner with a big clip
A white boy with a long nose, crooked teeth and big lips
I don't say no names, I don't play those
me shine again
They fucking with my mind again
But as soon as I finish this Heineken
I gotta go get my nine again
(It got a body on it from a party
record?
Divine Styler with Physical Poets, look out
Microphone King Donald D the notorious, yeah
This is Bronx Style Bob...
Nat The Cat, boy
Ha ha yo (remember the name)
We just cooling out right now (remember the name)
Hanging with your boy Young Nations (remember the name)
Cool breeze
the watusi, do the watusi
Shined open, coiled snakes white and shiny twirling and encircling
Our lives are now entwined, we will fall yes we're together twining
big orchards
Is this the best way we
Can grow our good fruit
To fall like dry leaves and
Rot on the top soil
And be called by no name except "deportee"
your life in one flight,
Lets take off tonight, come on
We go,
We go down
Love is in,
Then its out
We can tell,
Tell by now
If it wont, work out
Lets
spitter with a pro black agenda
Supported by the black referendum
And this only a sliver of the splendor
Homie it's the sensei
A dope boy with a flow no lo
the snares all the way through
This thing right here, man
Drum section Weezy Baby
Tez, once again
What up? Yeah
This is what they call me, biatch, haha
the snares all the way through
This thing right here, man
Drum section Weezy Baby
Tez, once again
What up? Yeah
This is what they call me, biatch, haha
a book out called The Emperor Wears No Clothes. The author's name is Jack Herer. It's published by Queen of Clubs, and I think there's ads for it in High
come
Surburban ragamuffin with a dancehall twist,
I'm saying I'm saying I'm saying nothing
This Shot a licka say it again kick it and come back for
Chapter 11 HUD
In the name of Allah, the Most Gracious, the Most Merciful
Alif-Lam-Ra
This is a book, the verses of which are perfected in every
sfollati — evacuees — dispersed out of cities and into the countryside.
War Correspondent 1:
The heaviest fall of snow so far this winter has just taken
they want from us
Ha ha
So this how we gon' do it then
We gon' take this whole rap game and we gon' make it ours
Yeah that's on my name
Look
Here with
Time it out and give it a couple of tries
So what is Space and this vail cast over our eyes
Its a disguise
The government uses lies and tries
To hide
the boards on the window? Bitch
That's bando
Shout-out to my nigga Bando Bo in the bando
Shout-out to my boy Takeoff he
Was cooking them chickens but he
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