Lyrics:
I’ve found that I don’t really bond with people my age
The energy don’t mix and it’s so hard to engage
When talking just consists of constant gossip
for grilled bread, it's quite delicious
But I prefer to be nasty
Cause you like the pasty
Pasties don't make a nice mix
There wouldn't be much egg
You
regrets, no abortion, had a son
By the name of Seven
And he's five
By the time I do this mix, he'll probably be six
You do the arithmetic
Me do
helper of cuts, Cut-Creator is his name
The boys' so nice, my boat is your strain
You could re-arrange but you don't have the brains
To arrange
it's a good life wouldn't wanna be
Anywhere else kicking back on the beach
Barely getting started you know I gotta see
Where we can take this
Use to not
in the backyard
James ride by poppin a wheelie
Aye Tay I'm still dreaming
And I'm still
I'm still dreaming
Aye bro I'm still
They thought it's
wouldn't even give your boy a band for that kit (nah)
Refuse to let him do me like your partner got did
So it's military movements and I stand on that shit
selling it
Got a little bit of post-impressionism
Neoclassical, surrealism, art nouveau, oh
But if you hit me with a host of questions
Quizzing, be all
Wants to get it jumping?
I can gets that for ya
It's me, please wouldn't believe
The ease that I run through them suck MC's
B.Dub like fist to gloves
'd be my last song
Me, Squeaky, Flex and J, on Saratoga Street
Smokin' white boys, bumpin' dopefiend beats
Eighty-eight, my pockets wasn't straight,
got a fucking death wish? I'm a genie, it'll get done
Nice to meet you, but it's more pleasant to eat you
With a leaf of salad and some dressing
shattered that glass
You know it's for real cause your sister sold by the glass
I tell you cats this I be swingin the fish
You know the beats still bang
a joke
Every time I'm takin a toke I get naked to smoke
I may be a ghost who bakin' up coke
But when I spit it sounds like homo sapiens spoke
I'm fakin'
quiet, and than black infiltrates the mix. It was really foggy today, typical for La Selva, and I just think how blessed I am to be living in such
on me like ice
Said I wouldn't do it yeah, bitch think twice
I ain't giving up, I ain't ever take advice
When you talk to me, better talk to me nice
Snow
wouldn't even know it exists
I'm a jersey boy like young Frankie Valli, my boys ain't four seasons cus they never switch
I ain't on BBC, I ain't no DJ, but
also
People were like this, started talking about the ghost production
But that's how I got in the game
If it wasn't for that, I wouldn't be here
So
a reality show for the bad friends I've known
At least the fame would come with something
I wouldn't feel all of this pain for nothing
There'd be the f***boys
reach (It's Gucci)
I do what I want, you do what you can
You a dope boy, I’m a dope man
Six hundred horses in my V, sellin’ P
That bitch use to be thick
the back
Bitch, you wouldn't know shit about that
But it's one thing that I hate
It's always been hard for me to find a date
'Cause I show up nice and neat
We had to hack it
Till we hacked it
I bet that went over your head
Like axes
Im fucking round with your ex's
Boy you obsessed
I seen your txts
Had me
of angels to uplift me
Oh would that be so nice
Save me through the dark times
Make it all alright
Huh
It's gonna be a long night
Yeah far from the finished
Folks thought I was playin' and they never thought I'd get nice
Give it to you smooth on the midnight
Folks thought I was playin'
Fa-Fa-Fa Folks
maybe we can all get by without his help
And perhaps we won't be better, but we'll always be alive
We bonded through having nobody
So what are we now that
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