Lyrics:
a fear of the new
And the narrow outdated tunnels they see the world through
And where to turn but up ones own ass
Where the answers are free but shit
a path
I'm reaching back
Tryna cover up my own ass
I stack the paper
Like paper plates
Nigga fuck the glass
I'm a young black nigga
With a tough past
As i
the records till I own ass
Got fire through the course of my veins jigger don't ask
Born soul proof brother we go fast
I'm hooked to the craze
Kinda like
not see it
But they wind up sellin' they own ass
One album, two album, they gone they don't last
So hold on a minute now, don't be so fast
Knowledge
gon' tell you the half
Ya not see it
Cause they're really only after the cash
Ya not see it
But they wind up sellin they own ass
One album, two album
a dragon engarde
Slimey like a snake (yeah yeah yeah)
All you bitches fake (yeah yeah yeah)
All you bitches up your own ass (yeah)
I don't fuck I take
seems
Pull up a chair have a seat right there
I've got a yarn I can spin you if you've got the time to spare
So far up my own ass and I don't know how
some evil views that hurt
Knowing everybody I got man I know they had me first
Man I'm surfing on my own wave I got my own turf
Yeah they running up
please, going up my own ass
You take credit card? Fuck this!
I wish somebody would build a bridge
So I could get over myself
On my own I'm wasting my time
Cuz you've injured too many hearts, pull your ego down to earth
Making love like its 1-2-3, easy as ABC, simple as pies
So up your own ass, I'd say "Go
bees knees
I got my head up my own ass
Nigga Fuck ya CD
See you pluggin in that flash
Its a trash USB
An ever since i got that feelin
I want more now
Why am I always alone
I barely trust day ones, I'm all on my own
I call up ass just to cope
Please don't ask me no questions
Don't ask me how am I
dresses, (?)
He don't even smoke but tell Butter roll an ounce
Cause I'm way too fucked up and I'm too turnt up
And I brought my own shit and I do my own
I don't really fuck with these pussy ass bitches that ain't got no money
I don't really fuck with these pussy ass bitches that ain't got no money
I
Stay the fuck up out of my business
I do what the fuck I want to, I'm grown
I got my own money
I just do what the fuck I want to, I'm grown
I got my own
people I fired, on my mama
Was crooked ass people (yeah, yeah, people)
I admit that I don't own my music (I)
I admit that I wrote on my music (yeah)
took 19 'fore he was 19, made me shed a tear (Free Pop)
Blew up on me own, no cosigns I was stiff (On God)
I swear I went like six times platinum 'fore
BITCH!
Wait a minute don't run
What's up with that?
I'm just trying to give you this 300 bucks back
That you gave to Twiztid so you could open up
You a fuckin' pretender
My lil brother look at me
And he know it's own
Before I go to school he up jammin' my song
It's crazy cause I'm lookin' at
Him
Stay the fuck up out of my business
I do what the fuck I want to, I'm grown
I got my own money
I just do what the fuck I want to, I'm grown
I got my own
smiles on me
I snort a line of pre-workout then pass up on the tree
Your mother loves my style, thinks I am the bees knees
And while I can outrun your ass
em, i got em
Lord I done went blind on they ass
Her fingers in my hair
And you know mine in her pants
She sit me in the chair and
Then she tie up my
and
Hacked up left on your back stretched cutty
I'll fuck your ass up
I'll stab you into the past tense buddy
You ain't survivin' this crash
The impact will
Pick yourself up
Ain't nobody helping no broke ass nigga
No broke ass bitch, no broke ass nigga
No broke ass bitch, no broke ass nigga
No broke
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