Lyrics:
gobbled, some wild hens would fly by
And try to get a piece of sweet Chewbacca's sweet ol' big ass
And everytime these hens got close, the hunters would
say them Tree Top niggas gon' ride tonight
They say them Grape Street niggas gon' ride tonight
They say them Bounty Hunter niggas gon' ride tonight
They
of straw and
patient animals standing around. The mother nods by the side
of the child. Suddenly she wakes from her lightish doze, sees
them, shrieks
A six year old trauma
A six year old caught up
A bitch has been distorted by a six year old trauma
And so these smiles are lying up a six year old
I've spent the last nine years living the same day
And the past eight months wallowed up in self hate
Living the same way, hoping things will change
Scott
Abraham Lincoln freed the slaves and then was shot
Andrew Johnson nearly got impeached by just one vote
Ulysses Grant is on the fifty dollar note
head space way clearer
Staring at a pimp when I walk past mirrors
Isaac Hayes when I walk on by
I'm Super Fly
When I'm stupid high
Had to sober up
Up on the Hill
There's an old cul-de-sac
Where I finally learned how to pray
Surrounded by all
Of the brothers and sisters
That I made while
alone upriver
Through the woods he knew so well
A sound nearby, an old man crying for help
He was ambushed by thieves
Ran to aid him
You saved my
To touch the stuccoed stars
From the deep of snow-enchanted woods
He called them from afar
Hunter's by the Deadman's Spit
All struck dumb, the forest
stupid paid
I'm tryna get stupid rich, tryna do stupid shit
Try and ball, bitch, forever, whenever, however
Old pride country nigga, campaign
and the stain still remain
On the chest where the four made a mess, yes
I'm still here in the flesh, twenty-one-year-old legend
I'm a live way after my death
and the stain still remain
On the chest where the four made a mess, yes
I'm still here in the flesh, twenty-one-year-old legend
I'm a live way after my death
body felt broken my knees collapsed in that room
I woke up early at six
Hopped in my old Ford, escape
And left that campus destroyed
By 46 and 3rd Street
to have a little poise
You should be worryin' about ya wife
'Cause she look like a
12-year-old little boy
Before y'all started smokin' crack
Ya life was
armed time
Sick, sick, sick eyes from the nose pressure
Police snip, zip ties on the protesters
Six wives in the fry of a molester
Met him at a caviar
Never lose hope
Way back I and Yahaya used to pick scraps from Six to Six...
I was 11 years old hustling for better days...
Hard times made my mum cried
Quick mud with some Marlboro lights
Waitin' on a old timer by the name of Joe
For a few bucks and some old crow
He'd tow, hell on the gears but good
me why I rock so well
I'm Big Bank, I got clientele
And from the time I was only six years old
I never forgot what I was told
It was the best
the holes that you burned in me
At six years old and you know
He never walks away
He never asks for money
He takes care of me
He loves me
Piece by
spit of scorn
Invisible king, dying
Procession of woe, struck down by sorrow
A burden so great
Weighs heavy on old and withered beliefs
The swift
In the year Seventeen Thirty Nine
We ventured out on the Christmastime
With our lips afresh from the old mulled wine
The snow was on the ground
and the pain and
The stain still remain
On the chest where the four made a mess, yes
I'm still here in the
Flesh, 21-year-old legend
I'ma live way after my death
the last six years I've lived through terror
And in the darkened streets the pain
Oh, how I long to find some solace
In my mind I curse the strain
So
Discuss these six years old by hunter hayes Lyrics with the community:
Report Comment
We're doing our best to make sure our content is useful, accurate and safe.
If by any chance you spot an inappropriate comment while navigating through our website please use this form to let us know, and we'll take care of it shortly.
Attachment
You need to be logged in to favorite.
Log In