Lyrics:
the pot
Food for thought
Watchu thought
Bitch it's really fuck the law
Always give it to em raw
Always pacing through my house, but it's really not my fault
moving 3.5's the other guys are bitesize
I'm made for the ghetto and the life that i live
Truth is, tryna make p from where the booth is
Knew this, new
the ground and rushes to the house, surprisingly quickly for his age, giving Edward a sign to wait. On his way back he is carrying a large book, chewed by time
Or is it just another fucking hood?
I'm having talks with my nigga Little
G from down the street
And the nigga been dead for three weeks
I'm going crazy,
soul, okay
Everybody wanna be demon 'til they get chipped by your throwaway
And I might do a show a day, once a lame, always a lame
Oh, you thought
That my black friend, he a real black kid
Get your own carton, askin' me for a cig
At the food court, he has 2-3 wings
Then the cops come with
fuckin' ass!
That shit is amazing! Wow! And I'm only on
Thirty-three percent
That charger is fufu i've been gone for
Three hours damn, that shit
Sounds
Spreading your crew and your food in a range
You bite on the curb, get stomped by the game
Your blood on the pavement getting mixed with the rain
They don't
Does it gotta come down to this
In order to see things for what they are and what it is
We still might not be free up in this piece
Or treated
of reservation
He said a mile south, there's a fast food station
Thanks, senor, as I start up the motor
Ali said, "Damn, tip, why you drive so far for
of reservation
He said a mile south, there's a fast food station
Thanks, senor, as I start up the motor
Ali said, "Damn, tip, why you drive so far for
Between 3 and 5 followed by a non-shiny finish
For-mat for the punchline-inept
Keep eating cause there's tons of food left
Really, you just have to taste
feeling cold
Just me and no body else
No money no food yh no help
Was really okay by then
Never called for anyones help
But u walked straight into my
prison
Can't be distracted by distractions stay in tunnel vision
Remember fast money never mix with fast women
This food for thought, yes this a natural
come ma body
Errrr Thunder thunder fire you
Ego maya you
Thunder thunder fire you
Errrr Ego over you
As anor get you nor dey for me
As adey br3 you nor
in his hands
I was nervy, it was dark getting ready for the stand
Asked if I had ordered food I said fuck no man
He said oh my bad and I quickly
I like my fast food faster
Syrup got me slow
Like a turtle 'round this ho
And I'm flyer than the highest-flying bird around this ho
Whats the word
Murder rap shit, I spit, for the vets who love it
By the time you read this letter
Your head gon' fly off your shoulder for lying
And I'm a be in bed
food
Comfort food
Food for the soul
When your thoughts have no home
Where do you go
When the house of god leaves you alone
leaves you alone
leaves you
called a tribe or troop
They have no fixed home as they're always on the move
Searching for more food from a new source
Mandrills are the largest at three
Honest I would build a wall
I swear down if I had three wishes
Stop her when she eats it all
My food is late
When they deliver
Gets pinched by River
I had shown a great acumen for playing music by ear. My father bought me a small keyboard that was maybe like one or two, maybe three octaves. And I
another body in the leaves
Hope death ain't coming for me but we're all food for the trees
When the man above says times up, so rack another line up
Don't
remember waking up and not having it no food in the cabinet
Clocking in for eight dollars a hour that shit was a tragedy
I said fuck it I'm gone get a bag
Discuss these food for thog by 3 Lyrics with the community:
Report Comment
We're doing our best to make sure our content is useful, accurate and safe.
If by any chance you spot an inappropriate comment while navigating through our website please use this form to let us know, and we'll take care of it shortly.
Attachment
You need to be logged in to favorite.
Log In