Lyrics:
instead
The more money, more problems like the man said
Ain't like my phone is bein tapped by the damn FEDs
But my accountant said I can't get out
Lonesome, by and by
We all get lonesome by and by
You came to me in a dream
You told me someday I'd let it go
The problem is in the territory
There ain't no
(Fuck all you hoes! Get a grip, motherfucker!)
Yeah, this album is dedicated
To all the teachers that told me I'd never amount to nothin'
To all
real.
I'm 'bout to do my thing to shine.
Said everybody
Shine.
See'mon."
It's not luck that I'm sittin' here
Spittin' for y'all.
Preeld in by
but got a dream
Hands up, pass the stacks we family
Hands up, stack up, move to Miami
Postman stuck on delivery
Like damn, what the fuck is up with me
these motherfuckers
She getting down for mini gang
Issa big maintenance saw
Tapping on that booty like im making dough
Yeah im a asian god, aint nobody
Swimmin' in the money come and find me, Nemo
If I was at the club you know I balled, chemo
Dropped the mixtape, that shit sounded like an album
Who'd have
slice
Blood, sweat, and tears, on the literal I did it
On the cusp of a dream almost hindered by a sickness
In weakness I'm a giant
My stature was that
slice
Blood, sweat, and tears, on the literal I did it
On the cusp of a dream almost hindered by a sickness
In weakness I'm a giant
My stature was that
listenin' to this project
If you, if you know me, go ahead and DM me right now
Let me know what you think of the album
Go ahead, text me, let me know
I
trains
Before all this pain we all wuz kangz
By the way
Married couples that use the one same
Facebook page are all like Krang
Every gay little page
Family matters, It's in the last name
Saturday mornings feel like a half day
Time flies by until you've had enough
Summer grilling and juice inside
and just thrown out
Of your house by an angry
Spousе that caught you cheating
Got you feeding all on the bus
Get on thе bus and try to get puss
It’s not me,
no fear, Flipmode, Streetsweepers Oh yeah!
Oooh I like her, shake your rear
You look nice who did your hair?
Syke!!! Shorty over there look way
the line was fitting
And I could end it right there, but hell nah, this the fucking beginning
You say you believe, JB gon' make it, it's still a dream
By no
screens
Chasing the fucking dream
Living it at the scene
Never I'm fucking clean
Never this obscene
The green like six teens
Flip O's a machine
they stand-by
I come truer than a dream, and youse a damn lie
With that anti-rap, complainin' about this and about that
Sounding bitch like, that
a ghost like Casper
Everything go smooth for me, like I got my Masters
FUBU platinum up, birds in the Acura
Albums platinum up, I kill any bastards
parties are the shit, forty mags by the scones
I'm fighting for gun rights to shoot a nigga in his dome
Click your fucking heels, there's no place like home
Yeah, this album is dedicated
To all the teachers that told me I'd never amount to nothin'
To all the people that lived above the buildings that I
Yeah, this album is dedicated
To all the teachers that told me I'd never amount to nothin'
To all the people that lived above the buildings that I
I'm dodging the debacles like pot holes in Jamaica
We cut down the weed bury the paper on them acres
Martin had a dream bob got high I still do both
whole album
You should've named it "Pre-Season" it ain't really mean shit
Name it "Pre-Season" ain't really mean shit
They acting like they bangin'
They
for me ‘cause Imma cry
I made fucking perfection
Like its touched by god
I would never stop
I'll never have a break
Music keeps me alive
I don't ever
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