Lyrics:
tired
Hurried people with carts
And eventually
You get all your supper supplies
Except now it turns out there
Aren’t enough check-out lanes open
Even
I filled up two shopping carts late last night
The one was full of fishing gear, the other Miller Lite
The checkout-lady laughed and said 'You
Blind on the knockout
Tripping we checkout
No need to Chase clout
Dry as the great drought
We be Sunday, Monday, Tuesday going all out
We be Sunday,
I'm like thank god
Yea we made it
Thank God yea we made it
This shit hit hard like Tank Davis
Sight on point nigga like a laser
I Came from the dirt
the gas tank
Know I got a angel cause I'm supposed to have a halo
Right now, my lifestyle destined for a federal facility
For my ability to make them
on the radio God had them play for me
Got a full tank of gas, a baseball cap, and no place I gotta be
Sometimes if feels like I can't catch a break
This ain't
Hello?
This is a prepaid call from Monét, Todrick, and Bobiana, an inmate at the county correctional facility. All phone calls are subject
a screen and a dash, a quarter tank full of gas
Smokin' that puff puff pass, throwed; I hope I don't crash
Rippin' the Swisha glass, so I'm flyer than
The enemy walks above, Clan remain subterranean mud
Off shore banks, tanks approach the location
Bombarded by the circle of death formation
Telecom lines
and your girl
Keep your weight up, or your ass get ate up
Cats is stickin, straight up
Wit the shank, get more time in the tank
Ask Hank, he bout
a screen and a dash, a quarter tank full of gas
Smokin' that puff puff pass, throwed; I hope I don't crash
Rippin' the Swisha glass, so I'm flyer than
Now I'm scanning boxes at the checkout
I didn't expect this is how I'd turn out but
Oh well, I guess this how it goes when you let down
Everyone inside
October
Stand up and sing
Living life to the full now
We hitting the pool now
Shorts, tanks and bikinis
Tans and virgin martini's
Thought that nobody knows
wheel grippin' and still tippin' Brandi wine on glass
I got a screen and a dash, a quarter tank full of gas
Smokin' that puff puff pass, throwed; I
footfall, sound God bury site
Batman, Earth slam, Joker to the tanzanite
Matte-black dynamite, blast radius, black radio
Core capability, Flacko facility
on to checkout
And get up out the aisle
Yo this my shit
Turn up on the dial
Drop
Yea know it hurt ya heart
Skipping beats
Did it from the start
Paint
tropical
Motions in an ample tank
McDuck dive head first
In the sample bank
Occupation: Making all of them hot cakes
Chirp all my Nextel homies with the hot
Hm back in the day
Self checkout only a couple bags in the way
Why you playing
Ain't no silver lining involved
If you hit below the belt don't be
the checkout
New Balance, how I step out
In the gym, you can rep out
50 ten’s buys the best house
I don’t mean to flex
But we hoop God on deck
Yeah we got next,
to improve
Y'all been sleeping on nigga
Kept hitting the snooze
I use to low ride now I high roll
Stada Don is presidential checkout the polls
Didn't learn
The girl at the checkout, checking you out
The cooks & the farmers, keeping us fed
Til the taxman comes to take away your bread
chorus
They give money
Say you living too easy
How you get it huh
Might as well be fertilizer
How I'm shittin on em
These niggas Ryan
I'm like Tank
So who you betting
the streets & ian never flunk once
Pussy we gone punk Sumn
You a bitch get punched drunk
Checkout we get busy love my glizzy that's my son son
Blicks in every
a foreign car to validate me
Or a mansion in the Hills to facility me
I ain't into chasing paper so they probably hate me
Cause they try to write me off but
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