Lyrics:
can't knock the hustle (alright)
But I- it's like a game of twenty-one and I got nineteen
And my Jake but I put more D on me
Lil' Weezy Wee gon' eat
up or give in
Aura goes on till the end
What'd you expect, me to accept defeat
You honestly think I'd let the world bring me down to my knees
Ask for
down memory lane
Logic arrived and he fucked up the game, simple and plain
Never scared to do it different, no two albums sound the same
I got tracks
Louis ,Prada or Dior
Frank Sinatra when we on the Radio
Smoking Zaza got me feeling Hella good
Might say something that you Prolly already know
Yeah, uhn
for my niggas that I roll with
'Cause see the streets ain't no Gold's Gym, papi
And if I feel it going down then my niggas'll spot me
Without
they give a fuck about us
Now, all my homies got love for me
Down to catch a slug for me
Guaranteed to bleed deeply, now that's love
Shit, nobody
was fucking up
I was seventeen, I was eighteen, just doing dumb shit
My moms made me move to New Orleans and shit, I went to school down there
Unclutter your mind for once, let me set the scenery
Put down the diamonds and blunts, put down the wine and the cups
Put your ideas in play, it ain't what
the late a.m
School comes and then I'm late again
Not hating, I'm just waiting
To let go of those who drag me down
A burden on my shoulders like hand me
Brooklyn is me
Matter of fact, the East coast, fuck, took it from me
Fourth album still Jay still spittin' that real shit
Volume Three still sold more
got my yellow dress on good mood I sing along
With my JBL playing Frank Sinatra Jazz Songs yeah
All the priority packs plus the letter stacks
They don't
(what,) uh, (what,) that's the way it's goin' down.
My new album ain't no joke.
You want to take me out, how many bunch ya smoke?
I'll never slack
motherfucker
How long will the juggalos be down with me?
How long till they forget me, check it out
What if I grew another fucking head
And his name was
some things, get it by any means
I disappear then reappear with a new scheme
I got fans now, I got fans down
Who can't wait till the album's out
I
teach our
Kids to believe in themselves if my
Grandfather was here right now
He would not let me back down
I don’t know what I’m finna lose after this
It
niggas you touch me
I blow up the microphone like Marilyn Manson, you can't hush me
Yeah
Heat'll make anything move
Even Tyson, can get laid down
tired of your Shit
You don't never buy me nothin'
See every time you come around
You got to bring Jim, James, Paul, & Tyrone
See why can't we be by
investigation tells me
Leo Frank's the only likely culprit in this case
Anyone with any information on the suspect, Leo Frank
Should contact this reporter care
Brooklyn is me
Matter of fact, the East coast, fuck, took it from me
Fourth album still Jay still spittin' that real shit
Volume Three still sold more
I let you play with me for fun
I'm just taking it how it comes
For real
Yeah
I'm sniffing for blood even if we in the same tank
Before I have Sinatra
by the way this is Hov'
One shot Dillinger, one shot killin ya
It's only one Roc La Familia
Sigel lock Philly up, Brooklyn is me
Matter of fact,
Bitch! you already knew what it was
What's a dog like me going to do with your love
I drive it down the street tied to my bumper
I don't care how find
know what to do
But if you really love me then I guess I'll see it through
I'll play you Frank Sinatra while we flying to the moon
My parents tell me
niggas you touch me
I blow up the microphone like Marilyn Manson, you can't hush me
Yeah
Heat'll make anything move
Even Tyson, can get laid down
.jpg/228px-Frank_Sinatra_(1957_studio_portrait_close-up).jpg "Frank Sinatra")
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