Lyrics:
get burned quick
And fricasseed for nada 4
Keep an eye
On the chick that's in the Prada
Who by night
Is a stripper in a garter
High as a kite
Ooooo, It's a
Cold world but I ain't Jermaine
Put away 100k before I bought a diamond ring
Cookin up, know I'm a Wiz, like a nigga Taylor gang
Tools
the mandem pull up with weapons
These tools give big men periods
These tools give big men periods
Just cuz you're an African man
You can still get done by
that your whole block hating nigga
And they pocket watching
I gotta keep the tool right by my side
Backwood the only way I get high
Life will change
Yeah
El akili problematic
It's okay by me
Problematic
Hey
Knack am with 2 by 2
Knack am with 2 by 2
Knack am with 2 by 2
Make them know their maths
I do shit I get by
Fuck with it
I do my shit I get by
Fuck with it
I do shit I get by
Fuck with it
Nah let get it one more time
Look look look ay
I
I wanna chill
I wanna chill
Out by the beach
I wanna build all I can build
I wanna be all I can be
I wanna chill
Couple of mill
House on the hill
back for those fools that be packing the tools
Its okay its okay its okay
All of those nights I was struggling just to get by
Its okay
I could tell, just
thinking about my goals
I needed time thinking about my goals
I Hope I don't make it by selling my soul
These Niggas is snakes tryna play my
Niggas is snakes
there's no faucets by my pillow
When I close my eyes
Album cover art by Tool appears
Pull up to the party
I been sipping' Robotussin
Shuffle through
keep my cool
Baby i dont play by rules
But i brought my tool
If he dont keep his cool
I dont play by rules
Cheating but i keep my cool
Kinda did him
of many tricks and tools and joy
With a battery of guilt on which to poise
Down by the shore, a funny foal
Who bit my wings and ate 'em whole
You left
gathering the tools
They would need to make their journey back to nature
While the sand slipped through the opening
And their hands reached for the golden
gathering the tools
They would need to make their journey back to nature
While the sand slipped through the opening
And their hands reached for the golden
gathering the tools
They would need to make their journey back to nature
While the sand slipped through the opening
And their hands reached for the golden
should respect it, select it
I'm never ever wack or reject it
Challenge BDP it get's dissed, expect it
I travel the nation by mostly plane
I travel New
guess sometimes they wanna chat
Faith in the bible by the bed
Trust in the Glock under my mat
Reminiscing ‘bout the choices that I
Made in the past
Broken
Who gets offered the American dream?
To O.D. on dope in a fascist regime
Sustained by the glory of the dollar menu
Rots inside raising no issue
myself to school
They smoothed out my rough edges
In my hands they put new tools
The instructor once he told me
I could work on any line
I could tune
fake
No, we can't relate
Yamborghini-high, Lambo by the crib
This is how it is, this is how we live
Bitches, bitches, bitches, bitches
Tool on my
dead
Girl I'm hanging by a thread
Please help me
Someone help me
And I don't blame it on you
Its the shit I would do
And I know I'm such a fool
For
In the eyes of society he mostly fumbles
And mumbles poetry by the tongue full
His type spirituality though he misunderstood the poet god thought it
I said
Mami I need me some you
Your ways n the things you do
No garden but I keep a tool
With my dawgs sipping juice
She want lifestyles by the ocean
to the moon
Don't need a spaceship, I'm off them shrooms
Up by the sun, I still keep my cool
Got all this space, but I still keep my tool
You niggas need class,
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