Lyrics:
doin, man
Don't give a damn if the squares don't understand
You let em tell you what to say and what to write
Your whole career'll be over by tomorrow
up inside
And now I ruined a relationship cause I let the block slide
Will I ever get back what I let fester inside
I can't give up what I know when
Huncho
Huncho yea bro nice on my baby
Give me your favorite right now as far as artist
J Huncho
I got Ots J Huncho
When people talk about what artist you
What you thought last night deserved a first class flight
To Hell where God doesn't dwell, you got that right
But He bought back life, on a cross that
of vinegar now, but you about through
We gonna get a steam drill to do your share of drivin'
Then what's all them muscles gonna do? Huh, John Henry?
Gonna take
fuckin' homie
You'se a cold-ass nigga on them hogs
Sho' 'nuff
I keep my hand on my gun, cause they got me on the run
Now I'm back in the courtroom
Hey, Instagram
This is a song I've been writing, oh, for a few months
I don't know, I, I started writing it about family
Just came up now, so
Down
Productions
Of course
Our music be thumpin'
Others say their bad
But they're buggin
Let me tell you somethin' now
About hip hop
disappearin' and shit
I'm waitin' in the cold, what the fuck is goin' on?
When you get in, give me a fuckin' call alright?
When it comes to sex, I'm similar
know what Sway and Tech do
I'll be back but for now just sekkle
Fresh, for ninety nine you suckas
sorry
Now you wanna call me crying
Now you gotta see me wilding
Now I'm the one that's lying
And I don't feel bad about it
It's exactly what you get
voice," like marriage and what'll follow
Came a long way from some damage on Grand Theft Auto
To NBA Arenas and standing right by your idols
We from
So Snoop Dogg for the keepin' it real with a strength
Now picture, Bonnie and Clyde, We side as we slide,
Side by side, to keep this pimpin' alive
him
Now he got his boy lying
[CHORUS]
They say he be back (say what)
They say he gone to the store (say what)
He probably out drivin' my car (uh
Yeah
I could
Rest in peace, J Dilla
I could
I could give a fuck about the metrics
Roll up in a Beamer, Bentley, Lexus
Logic stay connected
hard (uh-huh)
Trust in God 'cause you's about to catch a bullet scar (yeah)
I give a fuck where you from, who you be with
Keep this a secret, right by
have played hooky
I bring it like a bookie,
My aggression is depressing
Don't give a motherfucker time to learn his lesson
A lunatic, yall know what
nigga
California drippin' in my low-rider
Hit the switch, bounce, then it go higher
Def Jam, don't give a damn
Rollin' Backwoods by the gram
We
else who might have been running.
But, oh yeah, I remember. In this year that we have now declared the year from Shogun to Reagan, I remember what I
forget about the deen, Sirat al-Mustaqim
Yo, it's about a thing, uh, yo
If you feel real good wave your hands in the air (yo, yo, what? What? What
Cuz we here n we waiting
For the fallout
I'm about to Ball out
We Proffessional Innis Bitch
work smart no Call outs
Work hard don't Fall Now
Rising in
all about
Fingers in your mouth, open up your blouse
Pull your G-string down South, aoowww
Threw that back out, in the parking lot
By a Cherokee
Oh, newspapermen meet such
Interesting people!
He knows the low down (now it can be told)
I'll tell you quite reliably off the record
About some
and sleep on her titties
And she give us the word, we come through with AK's
It's a stick up, she scream like a victim
Now you, feeling so silly
I smoke
_(cropped).jpg/193px-Chris_Daughtry,_American_Idol_(3551102426)_(cropped).jpg "Chris Daughtry")
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