Lyrics:
romantic fruit basket and some candles
Call me Kyrie how I grasped her by her handles
She's yellin' out “go faster!” as I slammed her
She makes my Crowe
know, running in the Slick Rick
Bro, getting hit up by Big Daddy Kane. What the fuck, bro
Sorry I put it out like that, but it's facts, you know what I
from grass valley
I got a bad bitch riding shotgun with the shotgun
Pocket full of money and some condoms
I'mma drop your bitch back off when I'm done
a chance
You won't be leaving with me
And afterwards we'd drop into a quiet little place
And have a drink or two
And then I'd go and spoil it all
By
a chance
You won't be leaving with me
And afterwards we'd drop into a quiet little place
And have a drink or two
And then I'd go and spoil it all
By
I'ma still cry (still cry)
We ain't doin' no drive-bys, I look him in his eyes (I look him in his eyes)
Stand over with this fire
And I'ma watch that
stallin'
While we ridin' by, claims she really be diggin' me
Lovin my style she feelin' me
She like the way I jig on a beat
Jig on a beat
Huah! Hunna,
fuck tha middle man I want the Source
haters don’t wanna see me in that Royce I grind like snow boards and I just pust forward
I got the drop on’Em
on
Ring the alarm, I drop bombs like the Guard in Vietnam
I kick that shit, niggaz dream to write
My brain so hot that it ignites, but you can't see
the terms chicks are like cars,
Well I treat bitches like drinks,
When I step in the club and by out tha bar,
So let me quench my thirst wit you
need no invitation you just drop on by
It's time to get up and throw down a funky stew it's a Low Down Hoe Down
SOULBQUE it's A SOULBQUE
It's a low down
keep running by
I’m smoking my wax, I keep getting high!
I don’t bark, I steal money, dance
I don’t walk, nigga, we run this man!
Drop it to the floor,
strangler bringing noise in the wranglers
Rock all the heads big times and Alzheimer's
Shot the pill while I drop skills up in Brazil
Now the pitch time
of pliers
Then I roll on that ass like a spare tire
You on fire if you're woods and I done passed by you
Bitch, I be all up in your hair like a hair dryer
circle this drought
I drops them hollows, shots to swallow, my motto be "fuck tomorrow"
Sorrows improbable
In Chicago motherfucker, bones get fractured,
'm joking
If I'm N9ne I keep that pistol smoking
By design to find your prime time if their eyes open
Sign of the times ain't dependent on the rhymes
I just wanna cry a little ima drop a tear
Feel like, I've been losing time yeah I think that death is near
I don't wanna lie I just wanna be real
involved in beef?
Half the time, I swear he was smoking pot leaf
To look tough, he'd drop skinny kids and tell lies
But then he got dropped, bitch pick
Bank on a Dream :
Nothing in my pockets but a bank on a dream.
I'm here for a time so I'm gonna drop a line.
I'm fishing and wishing for a gal
nose,
Told them so them niggas don't ride by codes,
They cracking the code like it's something to crack,
I carry yo team like LeBron on my back,
I
I just wanted to
Remember those times
Regretfully blind
Full out of my mind
Heart filled crimes
At the drop of a dime
If shit went down, you were by
Midnight
Strap on a pair of heels
So I can feel right
Broken hearts
Raining like these tear drops
On a disco ball
I can't stop
Music drops
Heart is
miss that
So I might go back to those
But for right now I’ll drop your jaws just like a bhaddie with no clothes
I’ll try my hardest not to let y’all down
asking like when you gone drop a tape
Maybe tomorrow but I said that yesterday
Probably the day after it been a million days
I might approach this whole
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