Lyrics:
you, baby
But face it, she's Madonna
No man on earth
Could say that he don't want her
This look of love
Says I'm leaving
You're frozen now
I've
it that ain't love by remote control
Move over Madonna, give it up, Baby Lou
She'd never been rich, never been famous like you
She's hot
'til the end
So whether I'm standing on the corner with my heart in my hand
Or everybody is listening to the guitar man
Whether I'm standing
emotional
So now you sing and mix slang with blues and pluck strings
Confused as fuck cuz now your music sucks dick
Mister Mister ass kisser to get accepted
Doin' loser laps in my used car tonight
Got stopped by two cops for a broken taillight
We get off with a warning, ride away from the patrol
One cop says
Yo
Yo, aight
Yo
Yo
Yeah
Yo look
I make niggas mad like Wendy Williams
Oprah Winfrey on a colour purple ship mix
with Brittany Murphy on a eight
and they all tryna indict
Lazy sight, lean got me right (Yung Lean)
Jolly ranchers in my cup mix it by the pint
Straight catty, she just wanna tap me
I told
imma call her mañana
Man this drink is making me so wavy, improper
Oh I think that I forgot her name, Alanna, Samantha, Madonna, Rihanna, oh shit
live a life without color.
That's why my favorite thought's to drown when the moon is full.
Play about it with my guitar when I get home.
Take my
homo's touching man about a postcode
I cop da roli rose gold
Kick back she suck it slow mo
This oil sells itself ain't worried bout no promo
Trapping by
by little his layers he peeled
She wouldn't reveal , her lips were sealed
He told her how he felt, he told her how he feels
She said "sorry man, look
guitars
Cross a double yellow line to who knows where
with six sets of glory a night in some bar...
(CHORUS:)
Midwest midnight
Ten thousand watts of holy
about Glocks and keys
Niggas call me Young Black Socrates
West Indies bitch drop to knees quick (what?)
With dreams of being a rich man's bitch
Feel
the
King upon his throne
I'm ready for their stones
I'll dance, dance, dance
With my hands, hands, hands
Above my head, head, head, like Jesus said
I'm
and his guitar
To blaze across the heavens
Like a brilliant shooting star
The middle-aged Madonna
Calls her neighbor on the phone
Day by day
a brain sickness that I can't afford to show
To be a singer with a flow is a good thing I've been told
To be a man with image problems not the way to go
to make a blind man sing
Yo it's the cham-pan-yah, from the man with the bandanna
I can't stand a flute with anything but Santana
What's the first name in
was a big fan
But the first thing you said when you saw me is
"Can I get a pic for the gram?""
I was like "Nah, sorry man"
I only socialize with
Glocks and keys
Niggas call me Young Black Socrates
West Indies bitch drop to knees quick (What?)
With dreams of being a rich man's bitch
Feel sorry for
and cheepnis in the case of a monster movie has nothing to do with the budget of the film, al
H it helps. but true cheepnis is exemplified by visible nylon
lot of money
Man somebody get killed
Que pasa, que pasa, you know that I'm proper
I run with my partners
We need us a doctor, for drinkin' the vodka
man
The only thing I'mma give you motherfuckers is the dial tone
Flashbacks of a youngin' sipping that purple Kool Aid
Skipping school with my homies
saying sorry, my niggas be wild
Take your chains and the watch
My momma begging me to stop
But I got a million reasons why
Semi-automatic with
the first thing you said when you saw me is
Can I get a pic for the gram
I was like nah sorry man
I only socialize with the crew and the gang
Woah guess
.jpg/256px-The_Black_Madonna_at_All_Points_East_Festival_2018_(cropped).jpg "The Blessed Madonna")
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