Lyrics:
polyester suits"
Well, one day, up the avenue
There was a man surrounded by the Fort Greene crew
He said, "Hear ye! Hear ye! Come one, come all!
It started on a Lord's Day morn
That's when their love was born
On a walk out behind the old man's barn
In the haze of a summer day
Sam has lived
Shirk
Boom plop
Neptune now his arms extends
while one millions of souls
sit lit in caves of darkness
What ols bark? The dog
mountain? Down by the Sea
Well, how you doin' bro
What's up man
Chillin', I'm cool
It's hot as hell
I'm thinkin' 'bout takin'
A dip in a pool
F**kin' nice
I'm 'bout to hit
yeah
I
Tried to be modest on y’all bitch ass niggas
But I guess I am the fucking best
Man these old
Niggas coming out with this bullshit
Man you ain’t
twenty-five words
And uh, I couldn't do it, I wrote out five pages
And uh, I have it here
It's uh, have it by accident, actually, ha
But-but I, I-I'd like
out the trance when I heard a shot
Saw the old man cry, shit drop, by the garbage
Kid disappeared somewhere through the project
So I chased him, called
nothing on me
Ah, come to me, run to me, come to me now
We're rolling, my sweetheart, we're flowing, by God
Man, oh, man, I just love Christmas
It's
games,
So I called you to rekindle an old flame,
You know what's up, you know what's up when I call you,
My new chick on that bullshit, she wanna argue,
the end of the week and all I can think
Is to drink and have some fun
Shootin' pool and actin' cool
While the jukebox plays some Garth
Then I get there
the inner city rules, conveying the news
Soon as the jam start the man's art'll jam parks
Slam so hard it remains a landmark
The rhyme that I'm styling,
No chardonnay for my cool uncle Mark,
I beg your pardon just J.D., Coke plus old Garth!
Cuz Brooke’s played Chris’s games way too harsh,
Now he stuck
all night bars
Hopin' I could make myself a dollar
Makin' music on my guitar
I got the same old story at them all-night piers
There ain't no room
just thoughts of
The past to reminisce
Sometimes I see a chick walking
Past with ya kids
Or find an old flicka of some 1-2-fifth
All the shit that we
believe it, I just had to find out for myself
That there's some things in this world you just can't explain.
The old man lived in the Wooly Swamp way back
night bars
Hopin' I could make myself a dollar
Makin' music on my guitar
I got the same old story at them all night piers
There ain't no room around
night bars
Hopin' I could make myself a dollar
Makin' music on my guitar
I got the same old story at them all night piers
There ain't no room around
I bought me a ride down to Macon, Georgia
On a overloaded poultry truck
I thumbed on down to Panama City
Started pickin' out some o'them all night
that they ever showed
On Nick at night
And denace -N- spencer would be like one less
Than a few older women, when I get them two
Men to pause and by
it
Turn a man ghost no recon
If I pull out this baby fetus
Squeeze it, you be needing more than Jesus
Blow brains out now you ain’t no genius
Am old
polyester suits"
Well, one day, up the avenue
There was a man surrounded by the Fort Greene crew
He said, "Hear ye! Hear ye! Come one, come all!
Waste man
Cus when you get paced
Your crew won't help
Better get out my space
Excuse yourself
Never get in my face
You'll lose your health
When I said you
That's The Way We Roll-
I ain't scared of calloused hands.
I'm a carbon copy of my old man when it comes to that. - That's a fact But I like to let
Yo
This song is
Aiyyo Dunn this song is called Sunshower
Cause we approachin' the final hour
You know I ahh all I can say to my brothers
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