Lyrics:
feed her self
I keep her wet, drip drip, swim suit, no Gucci belt
I get paid for me being myself
5 stars when the summer set
catalogue gone get
caps Ski masks, loced out murder one classes
Those new Wallabe's, hocked up, Chuck Taylors
Permanent creased five-oh-one jeans
Throw away his real
Eye can see a million ways
To turn a crumb to supper
But when eye lay the way
Will that persuade they to take me under
It's cold like 40 below
So
figured I had to stay up
Write this song
Make some money
So I could buy some gas
And get my ass out of this god damn one horse town
Well it's 40 below
Sugar Pilot
V1-
Here he comes, flyin'by, look at all those pretty feathers Then he lands, by my side, says he wants to be together Every single
Took a look in
There was a five piece band
They was really rockin'
Looked like some kind of family reunion
Hey
It's a summertime thing
Summertime
to Pittsburgh last summer
He also had bladder problems
And a really bad infection on his toe
And she said "Mister, please, you can stop right there,
That's way
around the world, met all kinds of girls
I tell you whatever you name it, I've done
In and out of jail since 12, a juvenile so no bail
Most of my summer
all kinds of seeds
We grow pretty violets and apples and mint
And the roses we wear by the heart on our sleeves
In case we just never grow up
5
Seven forty five sun in the sky
I’ma start my day off right
Light me blunt curate a vibe
By 8’ o clock I’m stupid high Birds sing blissful songs
by the seawall
Fang brought the TNT
Make the bomb more large
Too big can't control
Hope it don't explode
Stay below when we touch the road
He was found
Back in the summer of '73
Some cowboy pickers got a hold of me
They told me son you're green but you can play a guitar
Well we got ourselves a gig
five Thirty six, it makes me feel sick
Thirty seven Thirty eight why is this our fate?
Thirty nine forty, and no home warranty
This morning brushing my
of tomorrow
At the mouth of the Foyle, bid farwell to the soil
As down below decks we were lying
O'Doherty screamed, woke him out of a dream
By a vision
and pay a fee
They be thankin' me, baby keep bankin' me
Kind of stankin' you know how these hoes be
But this bitch got that V
[E-40]
V as in Victor,
of the Whisky Row
And they ends her up at the Depot House
And forty drinks below
Then he winds her up and they turns her 'round
And they goes her the other
All my shit paid for
And why should I rent a house
When I can buy it and write it off?
Make it my Florida home for the summer
'Round winter time
Woke up this morning hearing shots below my project window
The TV's on from playing all night on Nintendo
Jumped out of bed tryin to see what's up
nice but nigga that's life
Black black on the scratch, no tradin back
2000 'Llac, can you fuck with that?
Me, Mack, 40, Shot and Bosko
All strapped
Radio Station KMG, 187 on your dial
And what I want you to do is tune in
At 5 O'clock and listen to the homeboys
Total K-oss and Go-Mack
They'll gonna be
a reality show for your entertainment, my man
I've been walking around kind of funny because that's the way that I am
Oh, it's getting hotter every summer
You
to migrate with me to the sun
But my heart is 40 below, baby I’m not Neo
Underground king, trying to pimp c notes
Make it rain, fuck no, I came up from broke
Get a dose a dirty code to go, been cold since Co-Flow
I got a wire or two unlodgin', I'll set a fire down below
I'll hang it up when you say,
to be heard by a gift
To uplift and split the Red Sea
Forty years to see the land of milk and honey
Radiant face, speaking on top of a mountain place for
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