Lyrics:
inappropriate but
Ziegfeld insists.
[Tenor:]
For better or for worse, "Oh Promise Me,"
Why does every bride glow ravishingly?
Within the secret heart
you ain't got to be ready
Life is hard robbing for a living
They stealing days
Like they stole thanks giving
Now that's gangster
So these lyrics be
to leave that lean, Henny, and coke alone
Terror to the business, married to the strippers, T-Pain
Student of the game pre-Kane, you niggas Post Malone
ride
Feeling the lows and highs
Of every lyric and melody
Every single rhyme
So here I stand today
In tribute I do pay
To those before me who laid
(Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
So fine
Was a time, I was a mother
Darling children would come for me
I loved them and I'd feed them
And in their eyes such
LYRIC
A Lyric-like a song-Can be right or wrong
A Lyric-like a song-
Can be right or wrong
*Ayuda me-Como yo puede aydar
A Lyric-like a song-Can be
life so
I'm a thug 'til I die
I'mma thug where I wanna thug
I'mma fuck who I wanna fuck
I'mma ride where I wanna ride
'Cause I'm a thug for life so I'm
an assassin
I know you well though I've only met you in passing
Drop the tape before I die so you post my lyrics for caption
I wield truths they tried
a K-Mart dress, now you're
designed by Dior
Oh my... you must be good for something
You're much to good for me
Porn imagination
Boobs on every station
You
so supreme
Lyrics I write of you, I dream
Dream day and night of you
And I scheme just for the sight of you
Baby, what good does it do?
a k-mart dress, now you're
Designed by dior
Oh my... you must be good for something
You're much to good for me
Porn imagination
Boobs on every station
You
real
People better rock this shit for real
Hooks straight to the dome
Sing the shit like Post Malone
You wanted top 40
You're getting top 40
The radio is
so supreme
Lyrics I write of you, I dream
Dream day and night of you
And I scheme just for the sight of you
Baby, what good does it do?
won't let me go (why?)
But I know it's time for me to be alone
Mags on me like Rolling Stone (yeah)
White girl like Post Malone (whoa)
In the bank,
supreme lyrics I write of you, I
Dream Dream day and night of you And I scheme just
For the sight of you Baby, what good does it do?
I've been
devient
Things to prosper for your brain to capture
Now what I'm after is to learn from all things
Building full swing, no strings
You got me thinking
so supreme
Lyrics I write of you, I dream
Dream day and night of you
And I scheme just for the sight of you
Baby, what good does it do?
knew the way it feels to die
So you figure fuck with me, I give that ass a try
Nigga, holla at me
Gotta be careful, can't let the evil of the money
DIGO EN EL IDIOMA AMERICANO “WHEN YOU POST, MALONE? NO ENTENDES EL TEXT DEL MES QUE TENES QUE LEER MEN VEN EN EL CARRO Y TE ENSEÑO CON TRABAJO, AMAÑO Y
Well I know it sounds funny
But I'm not in it for the money, no
I don't need no reputation
And I'm not in it for the show
I just want a hit
A first class ticket to Lucifer, real name Christopher
Watch me set it off like Vivica
Here lies your demise, close your eyes
Think good thoughts, die
Fair Knight for I whom I write songs and lyrics
I don`t know whether to renounce for your sake
Or wear the cross nor how to go, nor how to remain
So
turn off ringtone
She hella fly, she like a drone
Rockstar odyssey, Post Malone
Two quick shells, gon' hit yo dome
Walk into a trap like Home Alone
She
fine
And tie it to a tree tell it, "You belong to me
This ain't a noose, this is a leash
And I have news for you, you must obey me"
You are
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