Lyrics:
a while
This isn't nice bruv
Scales, sizer, visit's with lifers
I don't care bout your lives bruv
Your packs or your Lycas
I've been licking out squares
the starry night sky
I don't want to let a day go by
Without a look into those sweet brown eyes
Don't need to put mascara on
Your beauty hits me like a song
ain't got mine
I'mma holla when the primetime
Why you, how you, call me when nobody by you?
Nobody want you, your mind a ocean, your body's a bayou
I
Look at me now (Look at me now, no no)
Pour liquor inside of my cup ain't no chasing the brown
I'm out of my place and stuck in ways, but look at me
while corny niggas just ride the bench
I hate to see it
Niggas they can’t beat it
While y’all worried bout me I’ve got your shawty hot heated
Niggas know
ocean depths
why believe in false concepts
Don't try to hit home run in one fight
Ruth-less was not made overnight
Greed, pitty is not the way to go
ShittyBoyz!
F-F-Fit wet as hell
I drip water like Poseidon
Punchin' Doordash
I got Ruth Chris arrivin'
Feelin' too blessed, I made P in Verizon
Just
that's true
Money making I'm like who is you?
Check your mood
Doing right and stacking food
Spit your truth, dropping bars up in this booth
Imma send you
(Yeaahhhh)
Yeah
Yeah you can text to me
What's your ETA
I'll be there soon when you need and you can AMA
Whatever you wanna call but do you know by the way
B
Brown shoes don't make it
Brown shoes don't make it
Quit school, why fake it
Brown shoes don't make it
Tv dinner by the pool
Watch your
Spiked heels and porkpie hat
Have you on the mend
In no time flat
A shimmy and a shake,
A pitter and pat
Hey there sugar
Take a look at that!
want a list to Brown's Hotel
Cause lots of them have been traveling for quite a spell
All the way from Philadelphia
On the Atchinson, Topeka & the Santa
for the thrill of it
I don't care who feeling this
Out the way in the wilderness
Finding my peace
Clearing my mind
Aligning my chakras
(Chakras)
Minding
Living Life
But your mind's off topic, thinking about Money and Girls that are Topless
We taking our time, Ain't taking no Nonsense
No time for
Ruth with my Babe
Ima hit it out the park then I'm going right back to home base
When you ain't happy it be fuckin up my day
Know my Glock got a dick you
I'm close-eyed
Model bitch by the coastline
Said she wanna come for a nigga
So she know how to approach mine
Standup since a waist high
Money brings
food, I kill the track
Call me Babe Ruth
Hit it outta the park
Make room, pulled it outta my heart
I can't hate you
That's divine on my part
God
Hotboxing
wrecks and drive bys this world cold like an icebox
Momma tahoe fits eight sat in the back with a side eye
She did the best she could as though I feel I
ain't Ruth's Chris
Tell that muhfucka gotta find ya self a new bitch
She said boy you ruthless
Way that she be sucking woulda thought that she was
Degenerate to core, cut forever from the Son
Lord have grace
Why do I feel this way about life or death
Why do I steal an kill Your life breath
Why can't I
of America
America had formed a Nino Brown in every city
Basically because we have no way out
Ah, is that what America really wants us to think
That we
new ones
What's up with you girl? Maybe we can do some
Do you drink, do you smoke?
I could tell by your purse and your shoes you ain't broke
Hang with
Frank zappa (lead guitar, vocals)
George duke (keyboards, synthesizer, vocals)
Tom fowler (bass)
Ruth underwood (percussion)
Jeff simmons (rhythm
someday, somewhere, somehow, you choose to love again
And we can mend the broken parts of your second hand heart
Well I've been in your shoes
In love it
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