Lyrics:
Maybe he's a lazy kind of lad
Don't forget he could turn into a prince in bed
Be sure that he's standing by your side
Cowards are a waste of time
Get
the fun of it
And hating niggas know they fuck wit it
Oh lord I'm a different kind
Hate free I don't live a lie
Blu rags throwin crippin signs
So I'm in
really live my life by the book
Didn't sign the deal but I prolly could
That was once upon a time back in Hollywood
Where the drink at
Where the drugs go
Prolly why promoters felt like we didn't deserve to get paid
We were loved by some hated by many
Years pass growing up now, we just met Benny
Fan base
Shout out to California, that's what I'm smoking on
Pittsburgh in this bitch, Memphis
Throwed everything slow, Taylor's and some hoes
VIP smoking
The gutter with the vermin
I don't deserve to go North when I'm gone
Glenfiddich rivers, swan shaped bongs
And some big tittied angels
Floating over ponds
Drone,
Rasuu, Gotti, Nina Ross, Skails; Seven,
Seven, Seven. (Outta my mind,
outta my mind, outta my mind and outta my brains,
brains) the pain is,
Keep it on the low
I'm falling in love I just gotta let you know
I gotta let you know
I gotta let you know
Need some privacy
7 days a week
We can keep it
on the wall
Oh yea, in a second those will be all yours
Finally see an office with a mounted sign, heaven sent
Big block silver letters, read it out loud:
all the dough
The scene: long beach yeah '86
Where: the liquor store nigga on some devilish shit
I went in to grab a drink but I came out a felon
fucked up way too many times
I know that I fucked up way too many times
Coulda had you in my arms you be on my mind
Second chance so I'm gon' play my cards
me some time
But made him resign
Fimiliar with crime
He's now In his prime
Divided by mine
Took to many dimes
Im feeling my sign
You sour like limes
You find me too safe
Ridin weeks on my way
Through the holly and the chimes the wind takes
So far along some dusty road
Seein signs all pointing home
through it infinity like The eight time
All I see is eight signs'
Shit so dumb like seven eight nine
Twenty Three year old man can't Even get a facetime
dick
Too many niggas, not enough hoes
And some of you niggas, acting like hoes
Stay to myself like loners do
Get high by myself, I'm not in the mood
the Sun
And she named it Hyperion
And she made it a day of light and healing
The second was silver
And she colored the Moon
And she named it Phoebe
And she
want to hear the signs that you bore
You know the kind of sign you hang on a door
Saying, "We'll be back, we're a crack"
Now don't you think we
If I could trade every city light
for that small town Saturday night
the kind that winds up down some dirt road lit by a full moonlight
we'd be sitting
Uranus,
It’s icy blue and cold and kind of dangerous ,
We don’t want to visit there and you can’t blame us
Planet number seven is Uranus
There are 8
was by the trigger
Bigger than your ego
Isi-ego backing off this prodigal son
Know that, that flat nyash you spot
Am turnt to fuck on (Fuck)
After my
been me
And old Giddyup Go.
Oh, I've made a lot of friends at all the truck stops,
And Some of them would kid me about my little sign,
‘Cause they knew
for an hour
Will you stay for a second
Will you stay
Will you stay
I need more time
But the clock's going down
Just give me a sign
If we are fine
Then
joined us last night around 6 or 7
We were improvising on a piece of music
That he said sorta reminded him of Bill Evans
It sounded good to me, it
autograph on a napkin?
Oh, that's odd, I just happened to run out of tissue
Yeah, hand me that, on second thought I'd be glad then
"Thanks, dawg, name's
.jpg/300px-30_Seconds_to_Mars,_Anfiteatro_Camerini_(2).jpg "Thirty Seconds to Mars")
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