Lyrics:
pipe
I couldn't see it he said "my son
Temptation is one thing that I defeated
Listen to me, I want a single bill from you
Nothing less, nothing more"
I
Say man, I don't give a fuck about the FEDs
D E A, G T F, Task Force, Jump-out boys
Or your local neighborhood robbers
Baby, I got to keep
Pushin'
Say man I don't give a fuck about the FEDs
D.E.A., A.T.F., Task Force, Jump-out boys, or your local neighborhood robbers
Baby I got
manifold entreaties, many a tear,
Many a sad kiss by day and night renew'd
(Sure that all evil would come out of it)
Besought him, supplicating, if he cared
letters under candle, delivered by camel
Layin in a dug-out channel's kinda hard to handle
So I say a little prayer to my maker in this blood filled place
("Twe-twe-twenty sixteen
Twe-twe-twenty sixteen
Twe-twe-twenty sixteen
Twe-twe-twenty sixteen
Twe-twe-twenty sixteen
Twe-twe-twenty sixteen
and Gucci gooses, watching too many movies
Bullet proof this
Had some nerve like pulling tooth-ses
When you sixteen, coming through roofless
Yea ya boy
wrote for me
I grip a stick I wrote a
Poem not a rap
I'll be slapping when
The money's bottlecaps
Fall out
With niggas that care about
All clout
we get to it get your candles blew out like you Jewish
Pop a bean ima chew it leave a pussy leaking out of fluids
I ain't sponsored by Nike just do it
the penny drops
Yeah, I'm a wordsmith with a black heart
Got trouble making bright art
Figure out where time starts
To take the course of life by both hands,
Little do you know how I'm breaking while you fall asleep
Little do you know I'm still haunted by the memories
Little do you know I'm trying to pick
a masquerade!)
You're livin' in a, you're livin in a (masquerade!)
I'm on first so this ain't a rap verse it's more like a voodoo curse
So when you die
bomboclaat
I'm hard as Kenard, the little boy who shot Omar in The Wire
Tie a whore up with barbed wire, you're nothin' but a bra, boy
I'm the real deal,
toward us. First there was the Priest striding quickly along in the rain. And behind him came four little boys all about 10 years old. They were carrying
Little foot, big foot, get out the way
I'ma show y'all how to move this yay
I'ma show y'all how to move like this
I'ma show y'all that a move
romantic fruit basket and some candles
Call me Kyrie how I grasped her by her handles
She's yellin' out “go faster!” as I slammed her
She makes my Crowe
understand the struggle gets more real
Not everybody feels the way you feel
Little brown boy little brown boy tell me what you gonna do if dem come for you
take it out, take it out, take it out
Boys and things that come by the dozen
That ain't nothin' but drug store lovin'
Oh, hey little thing, let me
a little old country boy
Just a young'un in my teens
I don't gamble, drink or swear
And she did this to me
Mama said son you're going to fall
For that common
People they whispering
It don't get no realer
Sixteen with a body he a killer
Running around with a stick like Donatello
Man these niggas out to
Murder
use it, man he never had a choice (a choice)
Keep drummin' little drummer boy, keep drummin' little drummer boy
To the rest, good riddance, here's
Al Capone's way out nigga, I got that type of flow
Don't floss, if it ain't yours
See we a bunch of feature artists, y'all a bunch of "and mores
The candles matches whooof he’s back now
With Madrox, Blackfoot back to black out
And when you're coming back to reality blowing out the candles it be Nos
me that I can fall
Now I can't even see the floor
I'm not like Dr. Dre, the album took sixteen years to make?
I just ain't got the patience
Pay shit,
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