Lyrics:
She 'gon let me clip when I'm in town
Big Bentley truck, rolled her tints down
10k a month, Hell's Kitchen in Midtown (yeah)
L.A. to New York,
Young Money (Holiday Season)
If you could, you would get rid of me
Fuck you gon' do when a bitch try to go hard?
But I won't let you get to me (to
beggin shawty Por favor
Go and get teh other lane
Let me show you how to jack it
Ain't no like nothin a brother
You gon like it when I smack it
Got
other shit
They like to talk behind your
Back, but in your face, they ride yo' dick
That's why I stay tight with my crew
So what you gon' do when we come
where she learned that?
The bitch'll pull a pimp's perm back
Special handlin', dick's the package
It's mine, you gon' let me have it back bitch?
Good
mind?
You know, you know, you know, you know
We ain't got forever and ever
You know, you know, you know, you know
Let me be the one, baby you
niggas ain't good, you don't rap enough (nope)
Got on a bandanna like Bob (Bob)
You gon' run up on me in a MAC and coat (yeah yeah)
I couldn't get
the metro, now that shit is retro
Like the Infrareds on my feet, baby, let's go
Sinatra what they know me by, Logic what they call me
Gotta catch a flight
what you've got, make them all believers
For God sake boy, tip your hat to the teacher
Kris Kristofferson - Help Me Make It Through The Night; Bob
Before you go to work
Let me do something that's gon' keep me on your mind
Watching you walk around in my shirt
Make me wanna do somethin' that's
really wanna get fucked up, just let me know
We can smoke 'til there's no more lighter fluid to do it
Let's get into it
You're smoking with
Nigga, and you can't replace the late great one
And when you gone, you only gon' be the late fake one
Nigga, please, stick to the script
Before the guns
Okay
No Ceilings, motherfucker
Good morning
Dick in your mouth while you're yawning
I'm goin' in
Gudda, why they started me?
Marley, why they
Stay open like 7/11 that's 24/7, when you need some hot shit
Stop by and get you a beverage, I'm servin'
My rhymes like nickels and dimes
Plug it
a scratch, man (Let's go, Em)
I Murder this Inc as soon as I touch the page
You ain't gon' have no other choice but to rush the stage
And charge the mic,
at will
Did seven on the slide, 8 worldwide
I'll be on my third Bentley by the time I'm at 9
I hear 'em crying, "You gon' sell out?" Ya damn right!
I
, nice teeth, smile (yeah)
I like your style, I like your style (I like your style)
I ain't gon' lie, I need you (woo)
Don't let me in it (don't let
money)
(Baby, slide by)
Don't you play with me, I wanna see you
How you gon' treat me like I'm see-through?
Five hundred thousand dollar cars when I
Walking on the beach, our toes in the sand
I can see us on the country side
Sitting in the grass, laying side by side
You can be my baby
Let me make you
me show you what the MAC do (come on)
If you don't know by now, then you slippin'
I'm on some bullshit that's got me jackin', niggas flippin'
Let my
(all)
Damn near cried when I got that phone call
I'm so throwed and I don't know what to do
But to give you part two of my confessions
Now this gon
baby, come baby, come come
Cause I need you by my side let me love you
Let me love you right this time
Come baby, come baby, come come
Cause I need you by
as long as you ain't blow
Red carpet looks I tell you when they coals
Use no stylist, you know I joke childish
My Gambino is black not Italian
Let's
dive in your mind
I know at my worst, you gon' ride for me
Even when it hurts, I know you'd die for me
I always put you first 'cause you're my
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