Lyrics:
gassed in my absence
Thatchwell, Northampton
You can tell by the country twang in my accent
Nah I ain't gotta say shit
I just work in silence talk with
bump
Cause every time I'm on a track I always try and make em jump
I dream big yeah I'm Trina get money
If I'm on the road just know I need doh
Ain't
the position, you know the procedure
Can't even leisure smoke hollow reefer
With out police and search and seizure by the same police who murdered Ceaser
It's
red when I came out the blue
I'ma walk right by like I ain't got a clue
I'ma do me, you can do you, boo
I'm sick and tired of lying to you
And if
He came to town with a lot of dreams swapped BMG for KFC
And four strings on his Gibson and now he's frying chicken
He swore someday the world
dead
The Coronavirus which surfaced in Chinese seafood and poultry market late last year has spread to at least 166
Countries killing more than 16,000
Country)
With Charlie on my back, black and white by my side, (ONEWAY!)
1%ers in our crew, with a fearless stride, (ONEWAY!)
Rolling deep, drinking beer,
on more than a nic' (yeah, bitch)
My Brooklyn bitch in the Garden, while we watchin' the Knicks (yeah-yeah)
Walk your bitch like a pit', dogshit by my hip
understand
Faulty information keep on gettin' sold to the FBI
So what you gon' do? big baller don't cry
Everybody in this world can't get by
We love to be
no cigarettes.
Ah, but two hours of pushing broom
Gets a eight by twelve four bit room
Well, I'm a man of means by no means
King of the road.
King
You're just not funny ya know
So stick around here for a week or three or four
I passed out one time by your door
It was twenty to four, though I just
in slums just slump, sholiz
This is what the country want, yep it sholiz
[Scales]
Fish Scales scuba divin on a remote island
Me and Skinny D, Big
I'm a walkin' southern bound down the highway
Cars and buses and the big trucks pass me by
I walk awhile then I thumb they must think I'm a bum
ya order
We shooting all out the country
We flying border to border
I stay supplying that pressa
Like we up in the 4th quarter
Bullets nameless
I just
a big hula hoop
Questioning me what’s your name who are you?
Daddy is America Mommy is Italia
Made by the flames I was made by the fiyaa
American flag
and four chords repeated
Completed by a relatable lyrical concept about an ex or something
This isn't for the masses
It's for the
musically analytical
So
cars by the date
So fuck what you heard, I'm the man girlfriend
Pullin' up in racecars, this nigga just got a Benz
He on 106 New Joint, I'm on MTV Big
at the pull niggas throwin the L up
On the road to success, Im Tom Cruisin
For Derby, Tell em, Bring back cruisin
Ya can closed down Broadway
Not my movement
nobody like you?
From the country with the Eiffel
Girl, you popping like a rifle
Kind of crazy
Cause you kill it so bad
They should probably indict you
the piss
But we've evolved like a butterfly from a chrysalis
They've been out of the country, now for a while
Missing the fresh tunes and the fukin'
goals
You rentin' out a casa
I cop Picasos
Shoes by Tom, suede wit pecan soles
I ain't talkin bout the Toms, boy I'm talkin Tom Ford
And You went
4WM GRGP Free Teflon...
SpeedRacin' Down a long road
Every-time we pop a opp we throwing up the 4
Dem pussy niggas don't want no smoke
If it's up
nobody
I shot four demons
What you mean
Straight back to back
By the lobby
John the roofer by the gutter
Hit the house for the party
We up the floor
I do
on us
I don't wanna trust
I call that a just cause to blow all this up
Yo Michael Bay, did I make you proud?
Nothing like a big explosion to lay 'em out
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