Lyrics:
your foster mommas
And I'm as good at keeping a promise as Nostradamus
'Cause I ain't making no more threats
I'm doing drive bys in tinted Corvettes
5
20 minutes in they dump I'm gonna let these slide
We're the best
Look at what we drive got picnic tables on my lap getting high
In the back
Looking back at 23 like where'd those years go
Im a couple dollars short as the beer gut grows
The years blend more as the time goes by
And I wish I
You kno the finer things in life,
ya know, sometimes u gotta kcik back N enjoy that shit,
look, just relax, (roll that sticky up) summer time bitch
Verse One:
Seven in the morning, standing in the line
three fools in front of me, drinking on some wine
two in the back of me sucking on a joint
don't)
But I, I'm feelin' good about myself
So I, I splurge a lil' hell
I think the time has come
For me to have some fun
I'm 'bout to peel back
a good man
But Lord I think he sinned, yeah
Twenty-two years of mental tears
Cries a suicidal Vietnam vet
Who fought a losing war on a foreign shore
Seven in the morning, standing in the line
Three fools in front of me, drinking on some wine
Two in the back of me sucking on a joint
And one in
Andrew Lloyd Webber is doing the lights
It's twice a night for twenty-five nights
One more litle line, then everyone back to mine
Jesus in Vegas, taking
Put whiskey on the wounds
Salt the glass and say goodbye
No feel-good scenes to bring it back
Just falling brick and broken glass
Wrecking-ball
the we crow act there's jah
Twenty to life, you're gone
When I look back on my life
Dam near died by the knife
Now I know that I just can't stop
No more
indifferent
I'm lifting this weight off my shoulders
But how older I get
I reload the clip and sip on something
I feel good for nothing
All my glory days
So get your egg crashed, by my Hellz Wind Staff
While the feature broadcast is splashed to tell the news
Like Katie Chung, how the bullet collapsed
me the package deal
Can't go wrong with that
Knowing how to cook a good twenty-two pound ham
Hootie hoo
Nothing like a tall six-foot-five woman
needs (Jesus, Lord)
Sittin' by myself, I'm just thinkin'
About all I've been through, I wish I was dreaming (Jesus)
Man, it's hard to be an angel
What was criticized six years back
Is now back
With New York on the jersey front and back
Feel like Tiger Woods
Got madd goods
Way up from the cheap
What was criticized six years back
Is now back
With New York on the jersey front and back
Feel like Tiger Woods
Got mad goods
Way up from the cheap
she get the point
Tryna get her to stop smokin', I would leave and fire up a joint
'Til I quit, started back up again, twenty years later
All that
What's all the noise about?
Have some respect shut the fuck up
Driveby money talkin shit yo back the truck up
Y'all niggaz don't respect me but
of the streets (I know)
Live bad to die good
Know how to move when hustlin' by the days with no food
But just so I can eat (fuck)
And ain't it a bitch
And if
these streets
Through worse or through better health, survivin' by any means
We as Americans, us as a citizen
We as Samaritans, what do we get us in?
tracks,
Footprints, dog-smellin' prints and they took twenty-seven 8 x 10 colored
Glossy photographs with circles and arrows and a paragraph on the back
of age nine I'm already decidin'
If I can protect mommy from the hood by fightin'
Or usin' a knife or a gun when I'm twenty-one
Up out in them hoods
Ok
Three, two, one, go
You should seen the way that they act
They run with the pack
I could've switched up back then
But look where i'm at now
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