Lyrics:
gettin' me anxious
To speak for my defendants, that say that they plaintive
Guess we guilty by song, but yo the government must be on
(Exodus)
I mean
The illest mother fucker
Is in this room right now
It's Baron Jones baby
What more do I need to say
We bout to do a couple things we ain't done
would you say
If I had loved you
What would you do if I
I never left us
Where would you go if I was by you
When will I get a
Chance to make up now
And I
would you
Say if I had loved you
What would you do if I
I never left us
Where would you go if I was by you
When will I get a
Chance to make up now
And I
That's for sure
Then we get the ball, and we score some more
And Edmund drop a song and its greasy greasy (Greasy greasy)
Yall was messing with Swavy but
The watercolor sky at Hilton Head
Then I see you in that summer when we met
And that boy you left in tears in his Corvette
Baby, let's not ever get that way
And on a Friday night in Dallas, she's a cowboy's dream
Something tells me she'll sit out the first one
Then they'll play George Strait and she'll be gone
Cause
Part 1 - Intro
Tom Sawyer... (Rush, 1981)
Snakes why dId it have to be... (Indiana Jones, 1981)
Thriller... (Michael Jackson, 1982)
Chicago Bulls...
go taggin along
Naggin if she had a sis maybe could mack a baby hoodrat
Why'all remember way back then, when it was 1985
All the way live, I think I
(Right off track boy)
Then I get back to rap (And snap back boy)
Now where do I start, I'm living with loss
All the vicissitudes of the game gave me
back into my arms
Only then would you really know how I loved you so
Broken bourbon can't save me now
Can't lift my soul off of the ground
Can't heal my
touch your toes
And arch your back on it
You know I got to get back on road
I put my back on it
I introduced you to the plug
You turned your back on me
So
It’s a god given grab
When I get it I will not give it back
Love to make 'em mad like my dad
When I'm caught skipping class
I was busy writing songs
of the
Things you were hoping to address by
Going away, and then you get back
And do this sort of thing
Is your relationship to this
Stuff at all different?
What
Alright so this next piece it isn't a song
Or poetry or prose like the others
Rather this is a monologue that I prepared for a show
I didn't get
by the CIA or the industry
Know where black hands be on black Glocks
No back stabs or sad plots, we let them rot
1-800-Nas&Hit, don't call us with
never hitting no numbers
I told her I loved her, and then right after that I told her bestfriend that I loved her
Imma fuck up my wrist ‘fore I fuck with
disappear then reappear
Move with caution, danger is even closer than it appears
In these mirrors, looking back on my reflections, see my daddy's face
I got
loved loved loved by everyone
So I called up the front desk to see if I could rent a porno
They said you better have a credit card I said honey I
Bet I drove a million hours with the radio up
Where I first danced to a George Strait song
Had me wishin' I didn't have to go back home
She broke my
Sittin' back in my own thoughts
Thinkin' bout this life that I'm bout to live and this crib that I'm gon' cop
Rapper niggas hopin' I'mma slip, they
Get your paper right and that yay some good
But just keep a tool in your lap
My lil' patna holding that work
Nigga want weight then keep around back
paper right and that yay some good
But just keep a tool in your lap
My lil' patna holding that work
Nigga want weight then keep around back
Betta not
Get your paper right and that yay some good
But just keep a tool in your lap
My lil' patna holding that work
Nigga want weight then keep around back
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