Lyrics:
with America's #1 DJ, Funkmaster Flex
In collaboration with America's, pardon me, #1 independent rap label, Dipset
And right now I'm accompanied by
soldiers
But thets the type of cal i live up and hold to
Like Joe Jackson, Lil Emmo
Randy,Sir Pat, God damn
They got bigger, the list go longer
I could
she want my tongue
But I pop two-colored tabs
Carry places on my back
Imma upgrade the bag
Got my bros like Janet Jackson
Work my core like flexing abs
He, he, he baby it's the thug in me
You know what time it is
By age 13 I was buckwild
Good in my knucklegame
Made it through a tough childhood
Never
Sleepy Joe, Sleepy Joe
Rice and shine sleepy Joe
What´s the time don´t you know
To give in too and you kind of feel
You been wearing along
Ring
to your thought like we're within the place
Romance lomo
You can teach me
How to dance omo
Michael Jackson
In the groove lomo
Kiss you under
All the rain
Over 21 still a savage
No drive by walk out and blast em
Make em dance like Michael Jackson
I need a poetic Janet Jackson
Be yo Pac give you thug passion
rains in southern California
Now since I'll be here at your place
Lets take a weeks trip for two
We don't have to go to far
Just as long as I'm
he got another year
Even the judge wanna see that nigga get cut in there (by a Blood)
Tekashi really told on all of his homies (he a rat)
His baby
happen here
Kiss me under the willow tree
On a blanket by the creek
Kiss me on a midnight moonlight drive
Up on Jackson's Peak
Kiss me in the dark
eaten by your senator
Tell me why
We have a date
To vote a POTUS in place
With nothing to show, that they're fit as a pro
But you'll report to the court
D-line adequate, came in with the pink knits
Organic flow, no need to counterfeit
Maniac, packed, with their hats flipped to the back
Joe, Haak, go-to,
thirty-five I thought man a live
What could be a-holding her up
Just then a man in a long black Cadillac
Came in and told little Joe filler up
While he was
Rain of bombs and death towards children
Rain of tears by desolated moms
The troops are marching into our beloved land
Between blood and corpses they
down my one way flight
We didn't meet halfway in the pouring rain
I didn't write her name on the 50 yard line
I've seen all the movies, but they don't
you may look tonight
You will see this wanted man
I might be in Colorado
Or Georgia by the sea
Working for some man
Who may not know at all who I
statement, yelling out "thats my car"
So fascinated by material gain, its already ours in our imagination
The maturation of supremacy is masturbation
through the spot real heavy on the waist
So when they wanna move, we put 'em in they place
Yo, I was schooled by the hood, raised by the wolves
Trained by
towels (ok)
They been snortin' powder, I been in here takin' downers (ok)
They been countin' for hours, gettin' kisses by the thousands (ok)
Money
That's like Mike fucking with Poppa Joe Jackson
Ass-whoop all over the place, you can't hide behind
The physical, better run to the spiritual
Ass-whoop
and seeing a double rainbow
While listening to Bitches Brew as recorded by Miles Davis
Andre 3000
[Andre 3000]
Falling mirrors and a her hair in above
rainbow
While listening to Bitches Brew as recorded by Miles Davis (that's cool)
Andre 3000
Full length mirrors and her hair in a bun (a bun)
Kids with
nur irgendein Joe
Der in das Viertel einzog und
So verirrt er sich verdien, wenn möglich
Mein Brot und daran störst du dich
Alter, hörst du nicht
Wie
the sound
By the rain
Feels like the pain will not go away
I won't remember the places, the times or the names
Lost inside, way there
Where the hopes don't
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