Lyrics:
I know it's the same for me
I learn more about myself each and every day
I'll find balance between life and love eventually
But until then this song
some soldiers with me that we sometimes out of control
Up the road, my boy Thato had a connect to a sitch
If we sold 30 of them sh*ts, you could consider
soldiers with me that we sometimes out of control
Up the road, my boy Thato had a connect to a sitch
If we sold 30 of them sh*ts, you could consider us rich
I'm Feeling good about tonight, I'm country boy fresh
I'm what them country girls like cause I'm country boy fresh
Dirty boots, dirty truck, where
a child Again
I want to see sunset Again
I want to sing a song Again
I want to play in a rain Again
Again and Again
Start again, small boy, time
Come back,
swoosh
Call me Qui-Gon Jin
I’m about to go in
Fuck a Jay Rock, all I do is win
Win win win win
Win win win win
About to drop some knowledge for my
Kin kin
on me Why the fuck is it that every time I make
a love song, it just reminds me of the things that we used to be
Yeah, we used to be, now we're nothin'
im bout it
And what fucked me up is that niggas that spoke about it
Niggas that didn't even defend me, they don't know I know about it
What really
Drake gon' have to tag me in
You had your moment with me, it just came and went
I be wearing Gucci, you wear represent
Pay your taxes, boy, and paint
You Said you see me with you, now you say that I'm an issue
Now you switchin up and sayin, "baby boy you know I miss you"
I done cut off all of my
"Who gives a fuck about a God damn grammy?"
(Willie D)
Yo, Flav, I give a fuck about a God damn grammy
But them motherfuckin hoes won't hand me one
hustlin' up the dirty deep
Betta watch them dirty boys down south we keep it dirty g
I know you heard of me
I got that work
Man I got that white and I
on songs, could never be me
You boys too quick to forget, how you talking down on me
Like I lost it or never had it, I-might have to teach you a lesson
But no
Where have the rebels gone
We don't need another pretty boy singing pretty songs
Fake country boys, doing country all wrong
Need another Haggard
know
How I miss her so
More than you'll ever know
Mama I miss you
Mama I need you
When I was a little boy
Mama rocked me in her arms
She protected me
keep looking at me like I got the shit she never gets
Mother fucker, don't care about shit, we own this shit
Take too many to the head, now I'm floating
as shit
Yeah, them niggas bump shooters
How you had me, but you miss
Do you wanna take that risk
Suit it up, we about to spin
S4 was a fighter, K3 was dead
shoulders
You may dance with him all night long
Live your romance out in a popular song
But baby you're gonna miss me when the radio comes
'Seven Hills'
is thrilled to present,
The inevitable song stylings
of the internationnally acclaimed
Miss Vicki Eydie!
In her internationnally acclaimed
That yah boy gotta shine
Straight from the Chi city
Everybody ride with me
And you see the same questions and
I gotta teach the lesson
This some, this
a business
Spare me these unending trials
Half your cast disappears
But the crowd still cheers
Opera
To hell with Gluck and Handel
It's a scandal that'll
talking to us,
Height ni 5'8
But me si Buruklyn Boy,
Ngoso ni mingi
Wananiita Brooklyn Boy,
Niko ndani ya kitchen
Niko hapa tu cooking raw,
Siwezi Nil
a young boy tryin' to be loved
So let me give it to ya
I don't wanna know about your new man
'Cause if it was meant to be
You wouldn't be callin' me
everything wrong
We so bad that we rap about being bad in our songs, yeah
And if you test us things will only get worse
Cause we're bad boys spitting a bad boy
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