Lyrics:
of December
I pace back and forth looking for the courage to shine
But can't tap the source need something to nourish my mind
I know we all lose quite a bit
how I live
Don't even go hard for myself, I got a wife and a kid
I don't ever question the biz, nigga it is what it is
You niggas ain't killin shit, no
And a whole lot of show
And with Hank Jr. blaring on the radio
We got us a tank full of gas
And we was on our way
We figured we'd go down to New Orleans
And a whole lot of show
And with Hank Jr. blaring on the radio
We got us a tank full of gas
And we was on our way
We figured we'd go down to New Orleans
"I thought my CD was done
But that's not what they said
"Do an insult track, we need it for radio play"
Cram in the names, I'll take a long hard pee
the history of music
By night, just to pay for that shit, you'd dance
To get your pants was a mission impossible
We were both the same age but I
Suppose
and connected with on Facebook, Steve Lillywhite. For those who don't know Steve, he actually has his own Christmas standard called Fairytale of New York, which
Well, I've been around for a long time
And I learned along the way
If you wanna go on the radio
There are words you just can't say
Now I thought hard
madness!"
Breaking down the me machine (?) related to a blackest
All ?, despite this movie liz-biz
Think for a minute kids, you know where Egypt is
(2x)
country-okie singer
That girl, she's a walk on the wild slide,
She's a day glow radio slow ride, low ride good time
If you see her, tell 'er I'm
Lookin' for
dress
So baby go and get dressed
We 're going for a test
Doing some crazyness yes
Climb Mount Everest
East to the west will be a kingdom of happiness
the clock
Just trying to make something great
Yeah, I left the world behind
I put it all on a shelf
Now I'm surrounded by millions
But I'm all by myself
I
something behind? You can never look back
Can warnings be heard in your radio silence
From shadows you cut away the cancer of crime
Only doing your job but
to Houston
Let's do something we're not used to
Bowie's alive on the radio
The map will tell us where to go
We're not here for winning or for losing
We're just
and four chords repeated
Completed by a relatable lyrical concept about an ex or something
This isn't for the masses
It's for the
musically analytical
So
and they're pissed at me
For breaking all the fuckin rules and never missing a beat
Oh how could somebody let go
Of something so fresh and cold
Guess there's
The message through the bottle
Grab the Devil by the horns full throttle
Lightning striking twice ain't too odd
When you're looking for a sign from your god
you weren't on my mind
And I went for a drive last night
But if you saw me driving by
Well I must've took a wrong turn
I must've been thinking bout
These are the niggas that I die for
Something go down I know they gon' roll
Got new money and got new bitches too
But no room for new niggas, I don't
My bitch, she's like a sour patch, I love her then I hate the hoe
How the fuck we end up on the news before the radio
Brody said he gotta play for
got stopped, by this shorty tryna rhyme
Manager said we ain't got time, but time to time
You gotta make time when it's time for karma to come back
a shit
So just, keep the grass cut. No snakes
Keep the love, dip on all fakes
Give all thanks to most high for what brings joy to life
Gamble with it role
it for the show biz
Probably why I ain't making it in the show biz
I've sold a lot of shit I wonder how much for my soul then
This is the part where I
fashion, Gucci belts is for them faggots
My hat is by Jabbia and if you got a fucking problem
With the future, you can get a death wish just like Atiba
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