Lyrics:
the things you never did
Inexperience -- it once had cursed me
But your youth is no handicap -- it's what makes you thirsty
Hey, kid you know you can
something and I got it covered
Somehow always rise above it
Why you think I got my head in the clouds on my last album cover?
The game is all mine and I
Even if I made an album
With a Punjabi hit-squad
Clash me, I'll make you jump like Kris Kross
Make a man know, that I'm not a nimrod
And if you still
executive, who
Already works on LVMH’s digital strategy
Related
That West also offered to premiere his
New music video, "All Day
" directed by McQueen
"You
this whole city on lock
Cause my album's hot
And I know that y'all been waitin' a while
So I'mma hit you with this Full
Metal Jackit like Private Pyle,
it without you, I'm dying inside
My ego is buried inside
No self-esteem and I swallow my pride
Believe me, you can't do me right
I wish that you could
That's your last offer
Model in the whip, look like Olive Wine
Kiss me when I holler, you miss out on guap
Women wanna plug 'em 'cause
I'm in the game
Stop
the fence, it may not make sense to you
But this is our life, this is our fight, we wanna get right
But sometimes it's hard, we believe in the Lord and our God
putting on me
Whatever's linked around my body is all I embody
Need a check that make em think I'm linked up with Illuminati
Just heard my dads voice for
a bit?
I'll let you know when Stravinsky has a hit
Give me a melody!
Oh sure, I know
It's not that kind of show
But can't you have a score
That's
quit
Urban gospel no get future at all
If you no do secular you no go hit
By now your music for dey everywhere
But na only your friends and family dey
official
Let me tell you when it all started
Game dropped Documentary and
Made plenty enemies
It was a classic album, but prior to that
Guerilla Black
city you'll find me
Look for trouble right behind me
My Outlaw niggas down to die for me, know what I mean?
I hit the scene, niggas ducking from my
things,
So the time is right now for me to do things,
Cause I'll retire when I'm dead homie,
How many fucking memoirs have you even read homie,
Things
I met you in a club in Atlanta, Georgia
Said me and my homeboy were coming out with an album
You looked at me like, "Yeah, nigga right"
But you
what I do, everything was meant to be
So you took her from me, you nearly killed my mother
This is all your fault, guess you really ain't all loving
I need you in my arms
And I know my pride won't let me call you at all
Just give me a call cuz I need you in my arms
And I know my pride won't let me
first deal, wasn't no mill
Barely had a dollar to my name and I was broke by day two
Doing all types of songs, they were jammin, don't get me wrong
But my
stick by you
All the real ones, all the real ones gon' stick by you
All the real ones, they stuck with you, they gon' stick by you
All the fake ones, they
refuse, am I trippin' and confused?
Y'all coulda took me off the album but have still have yet to do?
Ah, nah, maybe it's the truth
Had the numbers
I step off of my soapbox
But, to the listener, this one's for you
If we ain't never met: nice to meet you, I'm Q
All my friends call me "Mitch",
on the door
Sticky floor
Alcohol by the bucket
Dip the cup in
and have some more
I might get lucky
If I get you touch me
But we was bored
Another function
You
my own preaching means
And thinking why I'm leaving rhymes leaking by the evening
Who'da thought the hammer hit ya?
The Ruger spark, leave you
eight
Now I need something in my stomach 'cause I haven't ate
Maybe I'll grab a plate of nachos and I'll have a steak
And you'd think that with all I
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