Lyrics:
he cries
When he dies
The newer me is just filled with lies
The old me is six feet under
Age is way more than a number
I just wish that I was younger
I
bangin', one day, he might take his spot
Five years old and he taught him how to aim a Glock, uh
"Use that bitch to protect your family," that's what he
Gently Weeps'
Was re-recorded on eight track
From scratch two days later
With a guest appearance
By Eric Clapton and completed on
6th September with
to riches, no pot to piss in
Three years goin' I ain’t seen no Christmas
Six months goin' I ain’t seein' no drought
Work so good they don’t ever get slow
closing
So we figure that I'll make it on my own
But we'll meet the year we're sixty-two
And travel the world as old friends do
And tell each other
finga up when I'm after you
Now I strap a big dick by the Girbaud sign
You heard I'm fuckin yo bitch, so you grabbin yo 9
Movin up like you got it on yo
I'm a seven-inch cowboy
With a tiny pair of six guns.
Five'll get you ten,
I betcha never seen one.
Well I'm a seven inch cowboy
How do you be?
She asks for camels and a gallon of gas
Yeah, baby, that should last…6 miles to mckenney
Camels on the counter by the bathroom sink
Something smelled
not for football, but for horse riding and Xbox gaming
In February 2012, Thomas, as a 15 year old, was diagnosed with a rare form of childhood cancer,
See see look
Ima get down to the knit and grit of this shit
I love my bro That's my slime that's my 6
3 years ago I think I had my worst birthday
on the map
Yo check one two, this is the voice of yours truly the Flava Flav
And I just want y'all to know, we ain't goin' nowhere
Old school is here to stay
Whip In My Ass
I Was Seven Years Old When I Lost Dad
Tryin' To Get Self, In Fact
But I Was To Young One To Understand
Who Would Take
drink moonshine till he was well blind
Twenty-one years old
Old Double-J could drink and fight
And talk a blue streak all night
But to him that
it's off the pursuits
Back in fatigues, black tees and Timberland boots nigga
The year is new I want my spot back
Take 2, matter fact take the whole
Mop the floor with your head first
Sucking dicks now your knee hurt
Try to solve me out like rubrics
Not the three by three I’m a six six
Bitch I am not
Display them 6 figures on N26
Hop on stage, thousands fans that's pretty big
Touring all year long got me pretty sick
Tag along people wanna join
the owner
Of more than just Coronas and old, broken Toyotas
Or debts from old posing and spending dough on them rollers
What didn't help, twice a year, I'd be
six-four, I'm Diddy no tint
I can't hide in New York City
I'm 'bout it in the South, sleep good in the West
Know a chick from Watts with Bad Boy tatted
get your ass kicked
Worse than them little Limp Bizkit bastards
And Moby? You can get stomped by Obie
You thirty six year old bald headed fag, blow
the hell are those papers to sign?"
And the man broke down
In a private room Danny's mother wept
As an old Jamaican woman swept
And not by chance their
Ain't no love in Oakland, bitch
Niggas always talkin bout 'I love you'
But ain't no love, bitch
Now it's a shame, I can't be saved by John
the field by the beehives (beehives)
And the years go by (and the years go by)
And the children play under the old oak trees
And the acorns roll
Shit, I remember when I was 12 years old
I didn't know about frontin or playin a role
I thought I was slick, I fell harder than bricks
With my best lyrics
obtained in the savage years,
where he learned the binding of a wire hanger to rabbit ears,
every pixel that leaked dead over the carpet,
had to be spit
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