Lyrics:
fatalnie
Jego ręce drżały jego oczy były przekrwione
I nawet jak na czarnego był bardzo blady
I was down in old Joe's barroom
On the corner by the square
check it, exit the old style
Enters the new
But nothing's new 'bout being hawked by a crew
Or should I say flock cause around every block
There's
"Cigarette, James - thank you"
"Now darling, what would you like to do?"
We got the radio pumpin, they're playin my jam
I like the doors on the ride, it's
to focus on going to prom tho (Ohhh)
Use to be me, you can tell by my songs oh (ohhhhh)
But that was the old me, boy be long gone tho (Ohhh)
That's why I
the block and dump that phone case we watched by 12
Wholesaling keep me up at night, I buy & sell
When I'm with my stock friends I guess we buy & hold
Strip
There's an old saying that you're
The dumbest in your youth
Whoever said that must have met Charlie Puth
But he can't be that dumb
'cause he's
fresh cut, Kodak fade
On my corner with them thangs
Come get you a pillow sack 5 for 20
I got nicks and dimes
What you want? Zone or high grade?
Shoot it
posta' with the Corvette Sofa
Corvette Sofa cherry with the strawberry
Versace versace on my Hirin' Carrey
Harry Caray ice Cream might be dyke dreams
Rap
When homeboys put vogues on any car
With 6 by 9's smoking burner
Everybody got addicted to my dope fiend beat
Whole town fucked around and started
effect to kick in
Begin this message, this upbringing
Boomerangin like Sunday mornings til dinnertime
I hit the rhymes in writing since 9 years old was my
damn right I shoot ya (Ew yeah)
Palm tight on the Rooster
Old in the face, 'cause this hold on my case
Got my growth at a fast pace
Old folks like
block
I'm that lifestyle, I'm that spot
I'm that kid by the number spot
That's my past that made me hot
Here's my life long anthem
Can't forget about
need to apologize to James Todd Smith
I make money, you just make dimes sick
I get face from women you wish you could FaceTime with
My dogs canines, it
really going on
Make it look like a lot of stealing going on
Boy them cops is killers in my home
Nigga shot dead in the middle of the street
I ain't no
Well if theres a god, god bless the girls who always shine a light
Praise Etta James and Joplin
Praise Haliday and Franklin
Old friends, that bring
land, Harry Callahan
Caliber cannon in my hand, shatter your man
Ran, splatter your man damn
This right hand land
I'm Chuck Zito, you Van Damme
Do a full
target practice
Really hope that y'all don't mind, but I really need to vent
Speaking with a flame, but I'm soothed by Jesus' breath
Never was surprised,
James Brown
When he was too old to be on stage
I said that won’t be me - I'll bow out gracefully
But can I really say
Cuz here I am in my fifties
Thinking
quite familiar, I was raised by dealers
Life stealers, who quite realer than them old niggas
In the background of your pictures, ho nigga
Your daddy
red and green
Merry Christmas to me
Look who it is
Same old flame
Saying all the same old things
You say you will, but you never change
Call me Rudolph
column, didn't have to cook a rock
A damn goodie two-shoes, that what they call ya
Never judge a person or a book by it's covers
Just because my tone is
I went down to St. James Infirmary
To see my baby there
She's layin' on a marble table
So sweet, so young, so fair
In stepped that muddled old doctor
please take your aim at me
Cherish the thought
Of always having you here by my side
Cherish the joy
You keep bringing it into my life
Cherish your
as the violence that the summer produce
That make us grow up so fast and got us running from youth
James Brown found the boots of a man that was hung by a noose
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