Lyrics:
I'm on my side of the road
And your on yours
Terrified by letting go
But I had no choice
It's the final casting call
From God's own doors
I decided
fuck that
Loud strings in my chucks and a maroon velvet golf hat
I let my holsters hang loose, no truce, no tamin
Westside niggaz for life,
One, take it to the streets let the whole world know it
It's the chance for your big career, don't blow it
Or get it blown from the top gun nigga
I ain't
balling as a rookie no Lamelo no Luka Doncic
The monstar, came from baby checks now they looking monstrous
Making deposits, hustling daily like trading
Yaun take it to the streets let
The whole world know it
It's the chance for your big career
Don't blow it
Or get it blown from the top gun nigga
I ain't
dope, I'm a Dope Boy
The mag light up like a glow toy
I let it go
I got a couple skeleton's in my past to show for it
No disrespect to Mistah F.A.B.
But
and I got to meet Jay-Z and he said
"Oh, you a real soulful dude"
And he, uh, played the song 'cause he already spit his verse by the time I got
the 21st. century schizoid human being...
If by chance they encounter a good musical idea, no matter how small. they will stop and smell the flowers that come
hat's backup clutches
A broken mallet and a shaker egg
Swinging ice cream treats and chicken legs
He's got the sawdust falling from
His hair and his beard
anyway
We slice it, it's goin' against me
Fightin' to show
I'm tryin', but no one lets me I'm tired
So don't upset me cause I'm
Tryna fight with both arms
it from the exhaustion or ...
No, I went ... like that.
You actually, literally tore a muscle ... I mean like that ...
Every time, it hurt.
Could
on the burner, and my things were in the yard
My hat, my shoes, my clothes, and my nylon string guitar
I told her that I loved her, but I guess it's not enough
She
chows
Don't you know I sing songs with a mink on
And have chicks dripping like the
Sink in their string thong?
I ding dong ditch bitches when the fling
the Truman show
Topics I'm exploring from a cubicle
Gotta let em out before I lose control
Shout out to my fam, even those that I'm far from
Surgical convos,
ripples in your mind,
And the shadows cast by nature
Show the future you may find.
As rivers flow because they know
That they must join the sea-
Thus
from his top to his shoes
sang the rules, guitar strings he played smokin' his ?
? hat, picture this yo, seventies cat
He wrote his music in the back
gone by since we been suffering
I no even fit show emotions I'm a string puppet
Only thing that's on my mind be the big coffers
And how too get
of calliphilestrian
But that's all over now, it's old hat
I'm a perfectly normal necrophiliac
Just don't test me or pull strings, forget it
I might grab your
on my own
I'm ready to sit on the thrown
Coming live from the city filled with these bad b*ches and these slow songs
Bad b*tch
Low fades
Roll one
Filled from top to bottom with every name I killed
I'm no weeb but I seem to be Teru Mikami
With a Death Note screaming delete
Like an electric eel
they Turner-All by all types of rings and j clothes
I went and got some Ernie Ball strings and a rig for shows
Wig-wearin' hoes love my long solos
workers miss him but then it plays out
So many ways out the hood, but no signs say out
Mental slave house where gats go off, I show off
Niggas up north,
And never did music for the Alpha Dog picture
Like I never script the pledge in the scripture
Or had a hit song 'bout my own liquor mixture
Do it like I
have you ever in your life experienced a day
where nothing at all seems to go your way
no matter how hard you try to get out of the rut
you just
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