Lyrics:
at In-N-Out
Or some other shit that I don't give a fucking shit about
You bloody marks are all snark
I can see you sippin' Cutty Sark in a golf cart
So meet me
the social
Responsibility fall for Hollywood? Na'mean
That's why, me, i try tell us that art is
A reflection of life i wants
The youth not to shoot and
Leave
I'm looking in my daughters eyes
Knew that was a lie them crackers took me on that ride
Back out outside cuz ima real Live hustler
And still blowing
bless America, God bless us all
“ I don’t know whether you know it or not but once in a while we need to come side with the affairs of life and just sit
and I'm bumpin' that "My Way"
By Sinatra, so high, so high, oh my, God damn
Now I'm a grown man, oh man
With the fuckin' habits of a the plan
I know,
by the loud
Siren of ambition fatima had
Become Mary, and Mohamed, adam
I now suspect that packaging me as
An idolized star to the pop
Market in
On the First Day of Dissmas, my bitch gave to me
Two condoms and a bag of sensee
On the Second Day, guess what the bitch said
"Ruck come to my house" 'cause in
name
Know what I'm sayin'?
Know me
But just havin' a
Those that know
I remember I was in
I was chillin' one night, you was havin' dinner somewhere
that, youknowhatI'msayin?
Night is in the air
Enemy.. on the borderline
Who'll be the next to fire
forty-one shots by Diallo's side?
You said he
take that away from you"
They let me know that in order to go a
Good college I had to get a scholarship
So I worked as hard as
I could however plot
you know how talkin'
On a Sprint feel 40 bang on him
I give him that Shawn Kemp feel
How the dog house in ya backyard got a
Backyard and you strugglin'
one's are growing
We're the kids in America (Ho-oh)
We're the kids in America (Ho-oh)
Everybody live for the music-go-round
Bright lights
Let me smoke a blunt right now and get in my zone
Akademiks said Freddie Gibbs got beat up by Jim Jones (word)
I'm not a big fan of his the streets
Used to rock the all-black Movado
The all-black El Dorado
All that and a bottle of Dom P (uh)
Niggas can't harm me, I keep the army
Is Brooklyn in
Used to rock the all-black Movado
The all-black El Dorado
All that and a bottle of Dom P (uh)
Niggas can't harm me, I keep the army
Is Brooklyn in
many chances 'till you're fouling out
And I'm like, let me live without taking no breaths
My mind is focused on which task I'm finna take on next, uh
look at The Birth of
Black America by Andrew Frank
Take that to the bank
Let me rock again, hip-hop again
Check out Africa: Mother of Western
lit
We was the type to shoot a nigga dead and pray that y'all live
So we can swing by your house and come and spray at 'all crib
Had the trap
to sorry as patriots like Mac Jones, I won't stop until America is black owned, we back home. King Like I'm Nat Cole and still bump that Frank Sinatra in
D
See me, I take this gangbang shit to hold mouthes
Beach coup, the hood patrol wit my flag in ya mommas style
I throw my set up, I ret
snappy is because he's making me do this
I
Should imagine he's making you do yours too
Isn't he? Get out of here, you creep
You used to live in his house
the Eastside of Long Beach, that's 2-1 Street
See we, live and die by the gun and the knife
And I, high as a kite, corrallin through the night
Ha ha, stackin'
Kartel Up 2 Di Time (timely)
I see too much violence, I see too much blood
(Tell me then, what else do you see in this world?)
Too much crime (timeless)
the young ones are growing
We're the kids in America (whoa)
We're the kids in America (whoa)
Everybody live for the music-go-round
Bright lights,
.jpg/228px-Frank_Sinatra_(1957_studio_portrait_close-up).jpg "Frank Sinatra")
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