Lyrics:
feet
Switching V's, $50 G's is chicken feed
We in a different league, I cop my ice from Tiffany's
Drive-by's in the Lotus, the 6-speed
The 5th will bend
drive
Just now when you seen your first strap, bitch, you was watching on the live
You was driving to the hood just so you could tell niggas you was
a number
Add it on up to twenty-five
The joke is on you, I'm still fucking alive
Had to drive by with the beat tape up in my mind
And combined with
a bunch of kids possibly sell more than me
and Randy Travis kickin all that country madness?
Failing star, failing guitar or a banjo
Your whole artform
worry baby)
Meet me at the southside
Get you home by midnight
Make sure that your daddy just don't know (daddy just don't know)
I'll put you in
worship with Allah
So plot against me, all of you, and give me no respite
I put my trust in Allah, my Lord and your Lord
There is not a moving living
So put your camouflage on, take a picture with some wheels
Act like you're working hard when you ain't even got deals
And don't ask me for a feature,
clay shoes
Playing 1-4-5 chords like good news
And cursed with skin that calls for blood
They put their face and feet in mud
But oh they
and scream at full skies
But next time a fox nips at your heels
Ask why
Who let you out
How did you get here
And then put it back in the fucking cage
That way
as a joke
Don't read books but put your 3 favourite books in your Tinder bio, so you look interesting
Drive a car with your eyes closed
Show off on Instagram
this wisdom took some time to acquire
You ain't down to put the work you need to step to the side
These streets take a lot of lives I made the brand Stay
and you'll be happy
A happy smiling face is depicted while a drone delivers a product to a household
No doubt ordered online and packaged by a robot in a giant
he was a good cat, my bad, dawg
Don't put no K after that B, boy, bad call, that's flag talk
Fuck around and knock your flag off, I had to
I wore
8:46 i look thru the list
Of children of god police couldn't co exist w
I'm on my Medgar (Evers) & Malcolm (x) shit
Scribe by my lonely uptown in
of a bitch
Cuz we'll leave you with a swolen upper lip
You gotta put God first, and then your family and country
You gotta stack that money
Gotta get it in
a Porsche we can drive//
My country got these issues, and we refuse to acknowledge them
Killers in our classrooms, in our schools and the colleges
Shot while
Like a burn on your mouth roof
Packed up like a house move
In the fields where the cows moo
I'm kway out the country
Moneys looking lovely
Lovely fucking
the garden
From sipping Black Label Carling
Black like the tarmac on the black road
When I drive my black car you know it zaps
All the work I put in
Done all
in, I prepared half a potion.
Now you must do the other half.
You must get seven part-silver curses made special out of bullet bits
By some Pollock
in, I prepared half a potion.
Now you must do the other half.
You must get seven part-silver curses made special out of bullet bits
By some Pollock
man
Me I'm tryna stack my gram
And live in colonizer land
And work in colonizer land (I will deny this country at any chance)
And scam a colonizer
to new countries
Live, laugh, love, what's life if it isn't funny
I'm here for a reason sometimes I just need to be reminded
If you struggle like I do put
the streets, the killers, the thieves
All them hoes in the hair salons 'cross the country talkin' about me (bitch)
Yeah, look, REASON speakin', so your girl
institutions
Do not fear: I am here
To put the lefties in chains
And give my friends all your money
Welcome to The New Normal
(We import 2/3rds of all of our
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