Lyrics:
coats with our hands in our pockets
Slappin' all you scary-ass rap artists, half-retarded
Swear by our forefathers
Anything you speak, think, or show
garments
Long trench coats with our hands in our pockets
Slappin' all you scary-ass rap artists, half-retarded
Swear by our forefathers
Anything you speak,
make it far
Tryna do it by myself, you know who you are
In the middle of a hut, with a broken heart
In the middle of a war, when we fall apart
Tryna do
and oh my Lord Jamar
And we bustin' on all you losers
Ridin' twenty-deep in two black Land Cruisers
Recognize or get paralyzed with the drum
Where
stuck in this grind, I'm stuck in this grind
Ain't no goin' back once them lights on you
Left the dorm in the middle of the night, homie
Affidavits
Them fairy tales you tell in your rounds
Will have a shell in the pound
Split your melon to the white
Meat with no melanin found
I could push your
other shit
They like to talk behind your
Back, but in your face, they ride yo' dick
That's why I stay tight with my crew
So what you gon' do when we come
right and whats nice
Stuck in the middle (hey, yeah)
Stuck in the middle
Of what I want and what you want me to do
I'm not homesick
I'm just sick of you
Ain't no diss
Keep pushin' me unless unless you wanna get hit
Uh uh you too drunk
Got ? with lock two fist ready to pump
Khujo in this motherfucker
burst their bubble
But we'll be getting by alright (uh uh uh)
I'm caught up in the middle
Jumping through the riddle
I'm falling just a little
Young, black, intelligent considered fate
Flew to Brooklyn for his 50th Masta Ace
He greeted me with a smile when I stepped in the place
You share the same
I fuck with this shit, man
Ha
Tay Keith, fuck these niggas up!
Word!
Hotboxin' in the whip (in the whip)
I don't even smoke (smoke though)
to loose
Either one of the two
All you are is stuck in the middle of two
They are your thoughts, they are your thoughts
That come in one by one to chase you
Stuck in zero hours contracts
A slave to the gig economy
But you still doff your cap to those born above you Living life by another's leave
a crook with a deal
If my record don't sell I'ma rob and steal
You better recognize, nigga, I'm straight from the street
These industry niggas is
Was it good ?, was it bad ?
Alright now look up, everybody drop
Rap thesis A1 but the flow is F1
Designated driver bout to crash in the wall
With
If a nickel bag is sold in the park I want in
In the middle of the night when the spot's not hot
you can find Billy Boy rollin' down your block
It’s Only You
Written by: Nicholas Benjamin Howell, Alexander Howell II, Jonathan Johnson, Miclain Keith
It woke me up
In the middle of the night
Not ever. To all those who supported our campaign, I'm humbled by the faith you placed in us. To all those who did not support us, let me say this. Hear
Ain't no diss
Keep pushin' me unless unless you wanna get hit
Uh uh you too drunk
Got ? with lock two fist ready to pump
Khujo in this motherf***er
LeAnn Rimes
This much is true, he'd never be blue'
With this cowgirl by his side
Here's a love song in denim
For the co-ow-boy in you
A love song in
York my third eye glides with the view like a hawk
Defined my mind is automatic rhymes are tragic
Fount in the attic lost you in Asia Minor
fucks
I hate whoever you like, I think your hero sucks
I send 'em a, old-fashioned "fuck you" like middle fingers
Thrown up by little old ladies with
Do winter's frosty hands grab you by the neck?
In words that speak of summer hidden deep below the deck
A season grown in shadows
Falling with
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