Lyrics:
(what?)
Fuck who next (fuck who next)
Cut the check (cut the check)
Nothin' less (yeah, yeah, uh)
This the final four, we 'bout to cut the net (cut
24 hours, hey Twenty I love you
Hit-Boy
Hey, listen baby, look
I'll make you dinner when you getting off for work
I'll rub your back when you
T-T, no ticks, three bags change for twenty one days
There's no way you're a savage, you got no heart like 21 says (Pew-pew)
Just got a call from Ian,
Blinded by the city lights
No one can see you stallin'
It's been so long since you've seen the prairie stars
You're not sure you can recall them
around bruh
Love ya life and just smile cause
Time flies it don't wait for us
Time waits for nobody no got to get it just go
On it seven twenty-four
slip into the background
You got me, you got me
Holding up the line
Credit card declined again
Tarred and feathered
I thought that by twenty-four
in my feelings
Codeine got me in my feelings
I'm high now
Gotta go, gotta roll by the projects
Drop the pack, feed the hood, livin' lawless
Tax
twenty-four seven
Neither ISIS or Emmy's
Watching Ramy sipping Remy
Rep 'til they resent me
Hope my people proud and don't forget me
Hope my people
a target and I splatter you
Bulletproof vest, Prada, Sacks Fifth Avenue
Bring my older brother cause he an assassin too
Or else twenty-plus goons 'gwan blast
Uzi
Trappin' by pool creek, action when it's 'bout me
They say you not the man in the streets
I'm flashy, now you got with the key
I crashed it, now
Crizila, Crizila, Crizila
Powered by the Chrysler big block
Four hundred cubes
The biggest damn sedan to ever
Come off the assembly
Bumper
"Pensavo che m'avevano detto, hai capito?
Fucile a pompa n'a Jeep, drive by a Viale Trastevere
Così in mezzo 'a gente, cominci a spara' così alla,
got back
Yeah, baby, when it comes to females
Cosmo ain't got nothin'
To do with my selection
Thirty six-twenty four- thirty six
Ha ha, only if
Crizila, Crizila, Crizila
Powered by the Chrysler big block
Four hundred cubes
The biggest damn sedan to ever
Come off the assembly
Bumper
suis sur la côte
On boit du champagne
Passe un coup de fil à mon 'ssoc
J'ai besoin de 20 plaques
3-4 costumes, un sac de sport
Un Cayenne sport qui
I start
A confidential differential, I'm the state of the art
Crowned king be-boy, the elite rap reverand
Master of the ceremony twenty-four
Twenty four seven three sixty five
Everything that kills me makes me feel alive
This house is haunted
I hear the sound
Of my faith being taunted
By
just like the people you got me believing it
Social media became a joke, and everybody became a comedian
But we in 20 1-4 and its funny
Wasting time
I'm thankful for
I'm twenty-five, full of pride
Surrounded by the ones I love
I fear
Scared that you won't
Next year
You're still ungrateful It
lost in the hood with 20 to life and can't come back
Before you rollin like a 6-4, and you hittin a ditch
Before you come up in this thang like you
bugging right? You alright?
Yo I'm trying to sleep creep
Then you asked for water and a bite to your kids
Kid, you bother me
This ain't store twenty four
He always called her daddy's little girl
She was four years old
Waiting by the door to run into his arms
Each time that he came home
And every night
but you're shaking far too much
You're shaking far too much
And it's gone
Yes, it's over
And the moment again passed us by
As the sun it takes over one
It's been 20 years since I've been on this playground
This place has seen a lot of change
The monkey bars and swings, the sandbox and the rings
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