Lyrics:
can I trust in this cold world?
My phony homie had a baby by my old girl (oh-whoa)
But I ain't trippin', I'm a player, I ain't sweatin' him
I sex his
to war, beaker scores, they continue to fall
Corner stores, way to uphold all these wonderful laws
So much violence in the streets, ask the powers that be
don't shoot anymore
My deal got signed so the spirits all up
We shot the album front cover up by the shops
We just wanna rep the manor right, give it
flowers
My brothers, they move like they paid by the hour
We ain't fall out, but shit went sour
Say she miss me, I drop the album
Ayy, ayy
I only
(ooh, ahhh, ahhh)
Bridge.
And when I fall asleep, you'd be on my chest
And when I awake and find you by my side
I'd open you up wide and loose myself
And cop my album please
We got the ganja surrounding good vibes in every place
I'm on a level unclouded by negativity
Nothing to say
Trees from the golden
I'm still here
I ain't ever went nowhere
I'm still here
Let's get one thing clear
I'm still here
If you ain't know by now
Take a good look around,
(Yo 14, you got another one)
Made it to the top, niggas wishing I would fall down
Take it to the top, make it drop, baby slow down
Tell me how you
Meow-meow-meow-meow
We might have to sample that for the album
Hahaaaaa the cat album by the dog
Meow the Jewels meow-meow-meow-meow
Meow-meow-meow-meow
I'm thought erasing All the bad times
That I had, raging
Facing what I have Put me out dazed and
Fazed by what I had Left me all razed in
Not crazed
Dreams are coming
And it’s coming very soon
Album Mode on reboot
We’re on our way to the moon
It’s only been a minute, but it only been a month
Album
racing
When I'm thought erasing
All the bad times
That I had, raging
Facing what I have
Put me out dazed and
Fazed by what I had
Left me all razed in
Not
festival
Not so very long ago
And the album, though well-intentioned
Not to everybody’s taste
Produced by the son of rockstar
Disappears without a trace
screw and common knew
We had bitches by the dozens "huh" we fuckin' cousins
You can throw ya middle finger if ya feel me loc
A nigga just got paid
screw and common knew
We had b****es by the dozens "huh" we f***in' cousins
You can throw ya middle finger if ya feel me loc
A n**** just got paid
to the ocean
Smokin' Ports, think my thoughts, then it's back to coastin'
Who can I trust in this cold world?
My phony homie had a baby by my old girl
But I
King)
So how the hell I'm 'gon lose
To one of y'all dudes when the album drop I'm 'gon eat (Nacirema)
You got the number one spot, really think you hot
to the pumps
Had you floating in the ocean
Now you trashed by the dumps
Nifty fifty gang, I was raised in the slumps
Pockets so fat like it's raised by
drive I'm tryna have you sayin', "Whoa", man
Fourth album comeback power like Rogaine
Records say Columbia but I'm So-So, man
I stay on my grind
I never wanted to be
A man of mystery
My life's an open book
by James Joyce and Agatha Christie
Sometimes I get confused
Somewhere around
Living inside my superstitions coming out of ghost town
This song started as an album story
About a boy kidnapped by aliens
One hell of an allegory
Each
open
I don't know how I got the gift I'm chosen
Making all these songs na I won't stop flowing
Still got big dreams big house by the ocean
Still I'm
to
Only rapper of the year whose album ain't need a Maglera verse
Unless you the homie the rest of you got spun by him
Every verse for me is like America's
This Album, is a specific album
Dedicated to a specific person
Just know that the reason why I’m heartless, is due to you
Ima need a Wave on this
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