Lyrics:
left hand wrecks your self
I'm just a self destructive rapper with a message
Don't do drugs, rather give them to me for Christmas
And stay in school, but
I wrote a note to sir James explaining I couldn't sleep.
Can't sleep. I can't sleep. Make sure I'm up by 8.
I turned on the clock radio.
The only
It's the return, East Atlanta, Santa!
Off the wall, off the chain
Off the top, I'm off the leash
So many freaks coming by the spot
Had to move,
on the track it's a flame
What's my name
TURO
Now you know my name
Ay
Man I swear to God right hand on the Bible
So in tune with God I could be one of his
paranoid, the SAS
Will end the game by kicking in your door
By the pinball lights, you got petrified
Your glass in hand, just staring at the walls
Yeah,
throwing fits bitch I'm worried about my profits
Surrounded by fake peeps I need space to fuckin breath
I ain't shaking hands unless we talking business
mobay aaaha
Yo anchovy a mi duh mi owna thing gyal nuh control me
Green pon badman dem strong strong strong
Wul e k wid one hand mek it slam gang gang
Moby pemoby pemoby pemoby pe
Just gonna drop this on one of them Moby beats
Here we go
C'mon
Put your hands in the air
Alright y'all
Moby pemoby pemoby pemoby pe
Chuck
Just gonna drop this on one of them moby beats
Here we go
c'mon
Put your hands in the air
Allright / y'all
on the record ain't nobody teach me how to steal shit
I was born with stealing hands i can steal anything im tryna get
Uncle got the same name did same thing but
I dream of a place where the Guinness flows like wine
I wish I was in Ireland seeing all there is to see
Surrounded by my best mates and the rolling
Nothing is handed and nothing is given
In many of pots I got my fingers dipped in
Focus up and I box out
Gortot with the rock know
808 Kept it lockdown
a year, shit like Trinidad James
Lately I can't feel my face, not just only on the real side
Driven by a lost thought noticing my wheels lied
Scratch that
boogie when I'm bored
Let me fly, but lately I've been feeling sore, tryna sore
I talk about my future like it's just about to happen
Get smacked by
like you don't give a what
Cross it with your ring finger
Spread your thumb and raise it up
West Coast West coast
what up
I don't need a gun the way I
out right with a hand clap or finger snap
No games, just gimme a beat by James
And I'll give some names to blow 'em up in flames
I'm a rap star
Ah, fair traveler, I shall weave a lyrical tale about James Palmy
a peculiar soul who shies away from the sun's golden embrace
human interaction's
across my collar, does it purr?
All these pimps is hysterical
I think they full of scare
Passin' by 'em in the V twin
Ghost-ridin' the blur
And rejection
ratchet he told me don't worry
I never was worried
I just finger rolled me a wood George Gervin
W a bad bitch posted up James worthy
Smokin dis Thrax trynna
James
To hell with the bitches and the so-called fame (uh-huh)
Strictly biz to hard (kid yeah) as I climb charts
Bustin ass daily as I compose like
if I pull out some heat, nigga, you gon' kick in (kick in)
And that's just the rules set by the fool from the old school
When it's time to duel, you
Me and my band
All must agree we like to get groovy
With the sounds of the old time
We like to jam cause man
Sounds from the Bandstand
Hand for
blame them, it's all just by design
Take it all with a grain of sand
Or leave it all up to me, I got you always
Always, always and forever
Always,
Yo, all my bitches that make money
Throw ya motherfuckin' hands in the air
'Cause it's all about the money
Money rules the world
I take over all
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