Lyrics:
sweet Beatrice
She's my sweet Beatrice
And she's coming home
Well, for sure, she opened the door
Whipped out a three-foot fishing lure
Sexually, that
corny nigga lookin' down on me?
And now he told you that he wanna go a round with me?
I'm at ya' door like Halloween, ghouls with me like Halloween
Got
Yeah
What we doing today
I'm just the
Author of a flow so poetic
It could probably go gold with no edits
But I set a goal to go get it
Motivated by
'm out the door
Okay so now I'm twenty-four and I got no one to ignore
Everybody got up and left I'm by myself and poor
If I could change one thing it'd be
hot" (never hot)
Hop out the four-door with the .44, it was one, two, three and four (us man)
Chillin' in the corridor (yo), your dad is forty-four
slat
And I gotta keep on running cause I’m chasing that check
I been balling I been scoring feeling like I’m up next
when my foot get through them doors
can't if you're a rockstar
Like smoke, I rise
As I
Still linger
In the air
Fuck
Where'd he go
((Oh shit))
Just Slipped
Out the back door
One foot
heard that shit before
And I say "Uh huh, oh yeah, you're right"
'Cause I see Betty X standing by the door
With more news from nowhere (more news
uh)
You put a lock on the door ima brake in
Chasing simoleons think I'm a Sim (Simoleons)
You get in my way ima send you to grim
Not from New York I
Conner McGregor
Nope Ain't going out sad
(Ain't goint out sad)
Got my foot on the gas, fuck pushing that pedal
Lately been on money's ass
You know I stack
guap
Is a struggle of man
Heard you wanna get help?
Trouble no man
Getting up in the trap
And I hustle 'em packs
Serving dat shelf
Out the project flat
R.I.P we just killed the club
Drank patron out the bottle almost killed a thug
Right now I'm so high I can't feel the drugs
Too many haters in
a capital M
Call me $hort Dog baby, put the P in the Pimp
I keep my foot in your ass and wouldn't give a fuck
Get out her pocket, bitch you gettin' beat up
It's not true
Can we all agree this is just the beginning?
By the way, I've never really even spoken in front of this many people before
So I feel my
my shoes, made it even worse. I worked in an environment where you're judged by your shoes. You dare not wear scuffed shoes. You dare not wear
Through Jesus Christ our lord
Roman 6-23 nigga
Read it and weep, biatch
Hit a man bustin' up in my door
So I grab my 44
Now them bustas on the floor
you're stalled out in too
Eyes on the road ahead been blocked by the early morning windshield
Traffic stopped I been cropped by the windows
Doors been
the nigga, it go "blam," uh (you're out of line)
A nigga out of line, uh
I think of grandma and the weight she would foot 'em
She kinda remind me
coming to kick in yo door
These hoes be weird as a fuck, they be all in the floor
Glock with a beam , knock his eye out his socket
Hoes stop by like
Tryina figure out when
I've more times than I could count
Been here how'd I miss 'em
It's a burial site
And I'm surrounded by
Gravestones
Everywhere
Almost feel like I can fly away
I wanna die today
Blow my brains out all over the door
That's a doorway to a higher place
I need a hideaway
Glowing
go hard
We'll send flowers and our best regards
I wanna be in the band
Surely you'd understand that by now
It's a one foot in the door situation that's
coming till the moment that I gotcha
Hit the seen and pulled the motherfuckin stops out
Through my foot up in the door and kicked the fuckin locks out
I
the ghetto
I was born in the ghetto, raised in the ghetto
I bang out beats by cars and ho stacks
Rap nigga puttin' out rock-n-roll tracks
Anything with wheels,
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