Lyrics:
of marijuana
Uh gotta get my paper right if not then i'm a goner yeah
Mego on my line he said he need it by the morning nigga yeah i barely on it
30s got me
quarts of 9-30
Yo, Mr.Cheeks, I made this bitch call police
She tried swallowing a nine piece
Forgot the warranty on false teeth
I return like Makaveli
of my God
With plenty halls (Na) (Nope they can't hear me na)
Getting me a warranty with her 30 day lemon law (Hmm)
Got to bag that
Got to pass back
Can't
My feelings have been captured by these women that use chosen
Heart need a warranty Its always broken or Stolen
Always Broken or Stolen
6th sense I
chill now you punch
Larceny? All I see is a bunch of new punks
I'd have you lyin' to ya mother
Bringin' money e'ry day nigga
You ain't even have to pay
humans[05:59.29]With spiritual experiences[06:05.06]Visions is the last song of the album[06:10.30]This song was co-written with Nicci[06:12.51]And was inspired by
the first time
That I haven't been in the studio to hear
The playback before a song goes out
I can't front
I'm really bugging out knowing that I can
Record
of a master
You never thought you'd be bodied by a bastard
A bachelor who backspin on breakbeats
Break necks of broke souls who hate me
Hate he? you can't
Yo, I want everyone to listen to the words in this song
Can you hear me alright?
This goes to everyone in sight
Left or right black or white day
Yo, I want everyone to listen to the words in this song
Can you hear me alright?
This goes to everyone in sight
Left or right black or white day
gave me you number anyway you were on the talcum
Powder, how's about them oranges?
Moved away from home to school with big plans
By day, studied
hate this feelin'
Innocent niggas get shot at, in the broad day, the A.M
I asked him for a play-by-play of how their whole day went
He said he went
If ya money right she go fuck witcha I ain spend no money and she fuck wit me
One day imma be on the sand in Dubai wit a sheik blasting this not
Yo Pierre, you wanna come out here?
On my wrist I got a 30, on my neck I got a 30
On my hip I got a 30, on my back I got a 30
Hitting all my
I been sober I ain’t smoke or drink in 30 days
Even though my head nappy I’m floating through with 30 waves
Crawl before you walk some shit
fuckin' problem
This nigga Tyler though, almost killed me
And Nico, on Washington Boulevard
The day before the carnival last year
Just because this nigga
To complete the many songs
Needed for their double-LP
The Beatles recorded regularly during twenty
Weeks from 30th May to 16th October 1968 the
Final
shakes his head
Everyone laughs)
By the way
I don’t know the days of the week i
Just go to exactly when my appointment is
We’d just look at each other
Cold boy
This beat cold boy
Greatest story ever told boy
30 million records sold boy
Must live by the code boy
Especially if you a dope boy
The halls were filled with publicists and
Escorts who had to pretend not
To be dazzled by those
They were escorting minaj
Had walked in a few minutes before
is the first week of July by the way folks. About three or four days
later... we must have got there around the 30th of June. Anyway, what a great
It's honestly the only thing that's really driving me
From being who I said I'd never be
These days end before they start
I'm falling apart
Song in my
no drive-by's
We walked over
COB bandana tied to the end of the AR
Iller than they are, rhymes so sick
Give 'em the day off
This is the chaos, Nicolas
Life handed me lemons
I jump back in the public eye and squirted lemon juice in it
By now you just wish I'd fucking die but I electrify
Get
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