Lyrics:
Blue light in the booth you naked backin' on to me
Faded off my love your drunken eyes would say it all
Quiet fucking in your room be careful with
What's up this is the work of
William Rostand
Why are you covering your eyes
I mean everyone was born naked
Even GOD saw me naked
It's Landrionaire
at the strip club gettin naked for ones
But I ain't trippin, you can hit the room with me, it's fine
And when I bust one on her chin, I'm like "clean up on aisle
eyes have seen
Nothin like you
Want to bite you
So Sweet
Not tryna be
Disrespectful
But I just want to get you
[Chorus]
Just back into it
rap, coke by the boatload
Fuck that, on the run-by, gun high, one eye closed
Left holes through some guy clothes
Stop your bullshittin, Glock with
[Chorus:Repeat x4]
Can you kick it like I kick it when I kick this,
Can I get a witness? (Yes you can!)
New jacks better back up, before they
Pressure shit kinda got us reacquainted
I'm happy you could join me in this universe I painted
Such a beautiful feeling, I really can't explain it
I hit
eyes）
Not for any purpose
This trans evasion matters itself
But not you
You drop the feelings as they are clothes
Naked and be ran by “me”
Not for any
Yo, Gambino niggas who swipe theirs
Deluxe rap cavaliers
Midgets who steal beers, give 'em theirs
Sit back jollyin'
My team be gamin' like
Shit, tired of gettin' shot at
Tired of gettin' chased by the police and arrested
Niggas need a spot where we can kick it
A spot where we belong,
flicks, mind's on the slouch
Back on the couch, heard the phone ring
It was a shorty from uptown I met back day, long time no hear from
No doubt long
(Where are you?)
Oh-oh
Oh
The Divine Feminine, an album by Mac Miller
Oh-oh (The Divine Feminine)
(The Divine Feminine) Oh
Am I supposed to?
Tryna down a lot of brick
(Back gate)
A lot of niggas got hit
At the (Back gate)
Aye I'm talkin' 'bout
That back gate made a nigga
I seen that
friends
I need a homie that know me
When all these motherf***in' cops be on me
I got problems ain't nobody calling back
Now what the f*** is happenin'
Break it on down, I break it on down
I break it on down (yeah), I break it on down
I just came from the A
I drove back home, six hour drive, six
its own sweet time
It don't fall from the sky
Like a tiny drop of rain
That hits you right between the eyes one day
No love, love ain't like that
You
Call me by my name
And in that time of prayer and waiting
Where doubt and reason dwell
A jury sat deliberating
All is lost
Or all is well
Home,
the parking lot
By a Cherokee and a green drop-top
And I don't stop, until I squirt
Jeans skirt, butt-naked it all work
You nasty boy, you nasty
You
across the nation
Funk Nation that is
That supported the album
My man Busta Rhymes
My man Grand Puba, check it
Ugh, yeah, Hit Dre in the house
My man
telling me to leave
Now where do I Go
I?m about to hit some spots with my guys from outta town
And there you go making those mean old eyes
Feel like I?m in
on my neck and back (shit)
Now listen, baby doll, we oughta hit the sack
The original, Young Aboriginal (ohoo)
Continued evolution of an individual,
Many people had the nerve to think we would end the trend
With Criminal Minded, an album which is only ten
Funky, funky, funky, funky, funky hit
Weekends in bed, no scramble eggs, or bacon
I just have time for you
Backs on the grass, heads in the clouds
We closed our eyes
Enjoy the view
[Chorus: x8]
This a trap
This ain't no album
This ain't no game
This a trap (trap muzik)
Welcome back to the trap
Niggas back in the trap
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