Lyrics:
Aw yeah word up word to mother. Here comes G. Rap with another one y'all.
We going to swing it like this...
I'm right in front of my front
niggas will be
Down for the cause?
Some days are made for reminiscing
Drug dealers with no product or
Pot to even piss in
Permission by granted God we see
her ass from my door
She better be halfway down the block
By the time I hit the floor
Tell shawty I'll be down in a minute
And then she gon' get
Live with the fever like Megan, that's fine because everything bigger in Texas
Purple vision means we slow it down but no time to relax
Outsiders will
other up
In our confusion we want to be more than flesh and blood
Like the good guys on tv, we pretend to have no feelings
It's easier to avoid
I wanted to be a typewriter mender when I grew up,
But things didn't work out so. Sleep
Late in the morning, climb up Mt. Olympia and replace
Yeah, top down in the coupe, bitch, we way past Mercedes
I got many women begging me for a baby
I got many men and they wishing death on me
Choppa by
Hot Rod on wheels
(No, I'm not)
A good game of arrows, a few dozen barrels
The Nautilus rusts in the yard
The Yorkshire he's yearning but because
Hot Rod on wheels
(No, I'm not)
A good game of arrows, a few dozen barrels
The Nautilus rusts in the yard
The Yorkshire he's yearning but because
is active now
How far will you go for exposure?
Little homie in the paint tryna post up
Don't make me have to put you on a poster
Posterized by
at the end of night I’m in and out of it.
I’ve been trying to find a good thing, but it’s never good enough for me
You might think that I’m crazy, it ain’t
then I mashed
Who the first truck, blood and guts splash in my face
Cuttin' kids down, couldn't a been no older than eight
What the fuck is goin' on,
to impress and every man admire
We say no low vibes come up we lift this higher
Burn down the whole club and set the roof on fire
Can't forget about
joggin pants wit no sockz
Run up them steps actin like you won't get caught but break them door lockz
Situations gettin mixed,yo messenger boy got in
"Lucie pick up the fucking phone"
Baby don't slow down
We don't have much time the sunsets dripping
And I might slip in
And fall down
I might drown
the trenches (in the trenches)
Ima whale in my city free willy (free willy)
Racks gone stack by inches (ugh!)
Ion ride hell cat demon (demon)
Pull-up wit
playin' a club
Throwin 'a shot down, tryin' to stay above
Ground, another ground-breakin' day in the club
Surrounded by my home thoughts, playin' a cut
on about nine rounds of they yip
Member you telling me you didn't like this shit
But by my side cuz you'd just want to kick
Fuck-d up in my own mind no trust
in as such
And can't you see
By the very words you want to hear
Words in which in no good Christian will appear
I'm tearing down the stupidity
cTOM BOMB BcBY by c. Ronee Blakley, Sawtooth Music, cSCcP
Ronee Blakley Productions Inc, Blakley Records. Distributed by Symphonic
In every world
but Im barely feeling similar, I can't fake a role to be up in ya cinema,
I can't take the wheel to Tokyo drift with ya, I guess Im all alone no room
enough of that system
It's no longer my goal
It's pure materialism
And that ain't good for your soul, no, no
I'm so caught up in your love
Your love
C'est
It's not that I don't want your help
It's just I'd rather do it all by myself
Cause I'm in my own zone
I learn by going alone
Cause I'm no good
on a train and they took me back
Had no friend for to go my bail
They slapped my dried up carcass in that county jail
Early next mornin' bout a half past
.jpg/220px-The_Sugarland_Express_(movie_poster).jpg "The Sugarland Express")
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