Lyrics:
My teacher asked me
If I'd be alright being
In a cabin with my friend Joe
Even though most kids
Were put in cabins
With kids that they didn't know
business
Do it
Do it
I don't trust these hoes
This a no trust zone
Not your average joe
Why you leave me though
I don't trust these hoes
This a no trust zone
Falafel
No Soho house there's no falafel
Too many agents, too many managers
People sayin' words just to fill
Up all the calendars
That's why I moved from LA
appetite?"
"I've been cookin' all morning and you haven't touched a single bite"
"That nice young preacher, Brother Taylor, stopped by today"
"Said he'd be
like Sade
I'm pulling up in that Benzo
Sweatshirt by Kenzo
My killers blow, we ain't friends ho
Rob the plug if our ends low
Got some old heads still
my niggas'
Let's be friends, throw your hands in the air
There's no need to front
Let's see you just throw your hands in the air
Let's be
I was weary at first, but Eric Dubay has some compelling arguments
Supporting Flat Earth that can't be explained
Oh my God, Eric Dubay? Yo Joe
bank
Account is evergreen, your shit is Millhouse
Throwin' singles in the club
Your money still spouse
Fuckin' Joe Schmo, just because he famous
Bitches
town
I hope you don't mind me dropping by unannounced
My only interest is doing things that are not allowed
Lookit, lady luck isn't just a friend
touch 'em
niggas ain't promised tomorrow, that's why we still hustle
For all my niggas that can't be here
For every tear, send my a prayer, I swear
Cuz I had to
Dey be like joe why u flexing
I got these vvs in my chain I'm resting
Cuz I had to
Got dem hittas round the corner they'll leave yo
Still dancing in my two threes
Or my addidas no shoe strings
I should be just chilling in the cool breeze
And with friends like y'all man who needs
of these songs
And both of them
Are so sweet
And back to
The main point
My friend Conor
Has written
A bunch of movies
And they're so good
And I try
these broads that's making you hate believe me main
Roll around town at least 3 things
All all the ass fat like Kiki main
When you walking by
You hear
you'll be mine)
Please say he's just a friend (uh-huh)
Now, girl, let's not pretend (come on)
Either he is or he ain't your man (haha)
Please say he's
friends
[2nd refrain:]
[Joe:]
My father would give me hell
If I didn't do right by Nell
But I don't wanna be married, I just wanna be friends
Please grant
be a shame."
"Whatcha gonna do tomorrow, Joe?
Whatcha gonna do on Christmas, got any plans?"
"Nothin' much."
"Why don't you come by the house
Written by Jean Frankfurter (Music)
And John Moering (Lyrics)
I was four and you were five
You said to me "You will be my wife"
Remember ?
What did
that's why whenever I would call him
There would usually be no answer from Joe
No answer from Joe
Always reached out even though
So as usual I'm calling
(Ha huh)
When it come to regular Joe's can't trust a soul (Ha huh)
Can't be nice to no dam body I already know (Ha huh)
Can't be nice to no dam body I
if you want to hear me
Why don't you just turn around
I'm by the window where the light is
She' my best friend
Certainly not just like your
with Trump and Joe Biden was comedy
That's when I realized we gon' be fucked either way, honestly
Oprah and Gayle King still don't realize why we upset
dick you sucking?
Come on B, I just heard some shit about you, some foul shit
Fuck is the deal?
Suck my fucking dick you bitch ass nigga
No, you
way it's you
It might be Rapper Pooh, or my man Herut
Ev' or Scudda, but ain't you muh'fucker!
It's just a metaphor, your favorite rapper
Is
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