Lyrics:
harmony||Another day I hit the bricks|Chasing a song trying to hit a lick|I Puts some words down on a page|I just might tell the truth today||The groove is thick
to start to run
Dried blood stains on the ground
Another one is dead
Killed by three shots in the head
Now silence is the only sound
Intoxicated
Intoxicated
another young man had a horn in his hand but he had himself a better plan. He picked it up and put it down: he got out of town. He went to Chicago. He
I don't know what ima put on this track really
Haha I just let the beat flow bro
Fantastix Music
Shout out lone heart for this beat
He steady
Big face honeys in my honey by the porch
Got some pains in my nipples, have to tell the b**** to shut
And you know I got it kicked by the mega
Rather make another joke by my messed up fate
Of how I only write these songs to make me feel so great
My family too busy thinking how to put me down
But
my friend, to the end
Of a brief episode
Make it one for my baby
And one more for the road
I know the routine, put another nickel
In the machine
I
on the fucking rink
Pulls you out from your time on the bathroom sink
Because thats me, just another guy in his head
Put your music out bud give us something
? buddy could you put this bail out
Back in the day he was outta control
Need another standoff but his music ate y'all
That's when me and fat Steve
shot, bitch
Let's fuck up the program
Get stopped by cops, smoking on Rosecrans
Make a little cash
They wanna put me in a toe tag
Thrown and locked in
a
Pocket full of rocks
Learned to throw them thangs
Get my skinny lil' ass kicked
Niggas laughed
'til the first motherfucker got blas-ted
I put the nigga in
A 15-year-old black kid'll go and rob a liquor store
And get shot in the process
He ate up a nine bullet and now he's put to rest
Why do I call myself a nigga
spreaded throughout my crew
Well, you all know TJ Swan who sang on my records
"Make the Music", "Nobody Beats the Biz", well, check it
Back in the days
once that when you put a CD in a CD-player the drevel, the drevel, kinda
It can, you can like see, it can actually see the drevel on your corneas
It
'em up
I don't be givin' a motherfuck, red dead bodies in this truck, time to get another truck
This is my last time, sicker than the ass virus
It's
a shining shade
Of bus-conductress blond
Tales of music and movement
Were told in grip and groan
But to put these thoughts
In songs like theirs
When homeboys put vogues on any car
With 6 by 9's smoking burners
Everybody got addicted to my dopefiend beat
Whole town fucked around and started
homeboys put vogues on any car
With 6 by 9's smoking burners
Everybody got addicted to my dopefiend beat
Whole town fucked around and started smoking D
learned to grip pistols in BK
Turn my music high, high, high, high-er
Mo' fire, more Rocawear attire
Mo' money, mo' murder now that M.O.P.'s hired
this brand new style of hip-hop
Cold put it at the bottom, it will reach the top
Because the rhyme is so def, you stand in amazement
Time's up, I got
think
So we all put on a show
What is fake and what is real?
It don't matter anymore
I still wonder if the music's really worth it
It takes up all my
my friend, to the end
Of a brief episode
Make it one for my baby
And one more for the road
I know the routine, put another nickel
In the machine
I
to get by
Im Popping pills to just get by
You put these demons in my mind
Stop telling me that I'm fine
I got demons on my mind
I got demons on the line
real talk music
This is real talk music
Check
Once I make it it's goodbye to all of that stuff
I'm not trynna be another black man in cuffs
Put down
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