Lyrics:
of cigar
i never wan die young
nothing fear me
she rocking fenty
she like chris brown
i don't know about designers
carolina herrera
she get it plenty
she
the driver's seat souped, cause it's a bentley
When I pass by, have you stuck, s.U.'s, black 'em up
Twenty-four, black rims, tires gotta fatten up
Whips, go
life, you know
We'll both of us be losing our identities
I telephoned my analyst about it
And he said to see him Monday
But by Monday I'll be floating
mama had some faith to give
And they brought him to her and his mama named him Vance
He was sick a long time then
I used to sit by him
I'd rub his
the wrinkles on your eyes
try to take it one candle at a time
when we turn 96 with a smile on our lips i'll have nothing left to wish
cause people paint pictures
yawning and I'd made it by 20
I got young boys on that corner, I call what you got for me
He say I done moved the whole thing, couple rocks all I got
twenties like a billion where I'm from
An arrogant drug dealer the legend I've become
CNN said I'd be dead by twenty one
Blackjack I just pulled in Aces
(blinded by the light)
Because it's blurred by the V’s, I was driven
I also was distracted by head she was giving
(she kept playing) it made us wonder
It was
by night and shunned the naked light of day
And only now I see how the years ran away
Yesterday, when I was young,
So many happy songs were
[Young Chris]
A memory attached, rest in peace Auntie
Rest in peace to you faggots that ain't standing behind me
Banana clips for you monkey, n-ggers
I am born
I am me
I am new
I am free
Look at me
I am young
Sight unseen
Life unsung
My eyes have just been opened
And they're open very
to call me the pirex kid, aka young arm and hammer
In the kitchen with the pots yeah work the glass
Hard on 'em pimp yeah I work the task
And when they
on her own
She goes to work and then comes home alone
But she believes someday her prince will come
There's a lot of life to go at twenty one
With
've been out here for twenty-some-odd years
Doin' my thing, I ain't no fool, man
You crazy or something?
I'm gonna stick this, right up your
The girl I
a young, fit nigga
Dollars I got plenty in the studio with 20 ya
Keep my hittas with me make sure that I'm straight
Threw the Benz away and copped
favorite shoes, now you wearin' em
I'm just a young, fit nigga
Dollars I got plenty, in the studio with Twenty, ya
Keep my hittas with me, make sure
Got your photo by my tear-stained pillow
Reminding me of good times
I keep the letter you wrote and posted
Running over my mind
Miss the feeling
Eagle side, homie coming up
I was young and I didn't give a fuck
Long Beach nigga, a fiend for the bucks
Lean in my chucks, banger, I'm tough, yeah
York
'Twas a wonderful craft
She was rigged fore and aft
And oh, how the wild wind drove her
She stood several blasts
She had twenty seven masts
around and round house somebody
Shoes by Louie, sippin' on Louie
Look I cant even lie all my bitches know I'm Louie
One thing about young, young swag
around and round house somebody
Shoes by Louie, sippin' on Louie
Look I cant even lie all my bitches know I'm Louie
One thing about young, young swag
baller
Young shot caller
20 on the wrist
80 g's on the collar
Back from Japan
With a fresh
Million dollars
Pages to sleep
Wake up thank Allah
You're
the candle on the nightstand, sittin' by the lotion
I got her open, got her floatin' off this purple potion
Just take a hit, no time to quit because you
the second time the candle trust, never moves, The dust clock is blocking move,
I was watch money the rules. 16 never fucking lose
2020 glows yah, 20 fucking
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