Lyrics:
itself
But the people want everything else
OK, no problem, I'll show up on everyone album
You know what the outcome will be
I'm batting a thousand
every one of y'all a fucking coward?
I'm doing god's work by myself
Every real nigga's just an extension of me
I live and I die by the code I made up in
say come harder, come smarter
Which one it is?
Which one you wanna hear, since you such a music whiz?
First thing I learned when I was coming up in
Who bold enough to challenge this deadly reportation
Of keeping MC's in a hopeless situation
No comparison, if you put the darts side by side
One will
overwhelming as fuck, man
By a landslide, the most stressful time I’ve ever had in my life
But you know, that’s what life’s about, you know?
You have your ups
of the hard knocks, we must not
Let outsiders violate our blocks, and my plot
Let's stick up the world and split it fifty-fifty, uh-huh
Let's take the dough
I'd like to welcome you
To the B side
Of Couch Slut's fourth album
And to advise you
To crank it
Crank it up!
You know, I wasn't always
lived i give
To the girls when they got up outta church
Pray for me, that I don't get hurt
I gotta work, I'm tryna get some G's
What you scheme?
else)
Fuck arguing and harvesting the feelings, yo, I'd rather be by my fucking self
(Self, self, self, self)
'Til about two AM And I call back and I
particular motherfucker will
Strike with an unmeasurable
Blast and fuck up everything within
His 360 degree radius
Warning: Prepare yourselves! Store your food
of the many will strike
But this particular motherfucker
Will strike with an unmeasurable blast
That will fuck up everything
Within his 360 degree radius
Inhale imagination and breathe wonder
That's your lady, I used to run up in her and G weed from her
It's a cold world and niggas need summer
At times my
and tees is all on us
I still got fiends that owe
Me since back in ‘98
Trapping out their crib
Bagging up on nine plates
Always had beef, so I stay with
down, tore the game up nigga
Took your high score down, put my name up nigga
Tore the doors down 'til the Hall of Fame is Jigga
I did it my way (and
ballin' out like the '98 Lakers
Pull up in a million dollar car and violate it
Fly to Cancun on Sunday, land in France on Monday
Faded at the fashion
For the other tracks to this album,
Look up "loona boycott" on Apple Music
It's the playlist by "gabe"
Make sure to download it before the tracks
Are
to get popped by a cop?
Who the next n**** in the hood to get shot?
I hope it ain't me, so I'm strapped up in bulletproof
N**** on my stomach see -
And so the album begins hope you guys enjoy this journey
Definition of a fake friend honestly, I don't know what that means
Been surrounded by so
By the flashlight screen -
Views of a captured sceen
Bright faces smile, we're together
People sit around some Christmas supper
Lame quarrels between
screaming free all of my niggas
That's locked by them chains and thangs
Came up inda slums making bangs and thangs
Might have to get low
Mel with me that boy
What a day at the park (The Estate Sale)
What a day at the park (Gangsta Grizillz, yeah)
I pulled up in that eighteenth letter repeat buggy
Had
Since Big ain't here, I'm about to do it for T'yanna
And put roses on the grave of Kanye's mama
This for all the lost girls locked up in the pen
by my side
This love ain't all brand new, 'til the end of time
I wanna be with you, bae, until I die, yeah
Don't you go givin' up on me, love me
really blame you? (Who can really blame you?)
We're the ones who made you
Ahem, back by popular demand
Now pop a little Zantac for antacid if you can
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