Lyrics:
alone?
The rest of the world has gone home
I tried to paint you my feelings through this verse
Just like Neil Young did in the back of his hearse
But
and grumbling
Mixing in my belly
Selfish, self-righteous
Working on Neil
I know you'll be laying by my side
And I'll be laying by your side
When I'm cold
the truth (take the)
Get through
Right yours, wait if you just keep it true
Don't fight the blues, don't fight the blues
Brotha man, young man
Let me
workin' on nigga? (Um, you know, I got Curren$y album)
(And quietly workin' on my album, ya dig?)
Oh, I'm ready to brush my shoulders off and drop my next
Kingdom of Morocco
Kingdom of Morocco
I'd like to lay a bit of soul I had left
(Who dyin' inside?)
(Neil, do it non stop)
One day you gon'
"Perfect Ten"
Said, "Man you should name your album, 'Faith of a Mustard Seed'"
At that very moment, I didn't know exactly what he meant by it
But I knew
Wallace, Bear Bryant, and Ronnie Van Zandt.
Now, Ronnie Van Zandt wasn't from Alabama, he was from Florida.
He was a huge Neil Young fan.
But, in
this, "Keep something crisp on your wrist"
Now we on album six, the top team on your list
Probably grab another hun' though
Industry cutthroat, watch
on my dog
We the truth by far
Young GOAT, way 'fore Earl Manigault in that park
Now it's prime only 'fore you hit that heart
I built a penthouse in
young, black, fly and cool
Think that's how I got by in school
Man get booked, start buying jewels
Them man get shook, start buying tools
Ah man, you
the module than you'll have to try the slide
It was all cool enough if you had the zazz
The night was still young and it was all we had
I picked her up
to switch the hue 'cause them LA boys smuggy
But more likely to get hurt by somebody who love me
My lady, she don't trust me (nah), know I'm a sick puppy
Harold Melvin sample
I played it for Hip over the phone
He's like, "Oh, yo that shit is crazy
Jay might want it for this compilation album he doin'
I hear your name in the papers
They call me, "Young Ass Weezy"
I'm gon' 'round up the whole uptown
We gon' burn this bitch down to the ground (to
written on an album sleeve
She can tell you who's hot
Who will make it and who will not
She loves to hear the music
She's got every lyric down
She loves
official
Let me tell you when it all started
Game dropped Documentary and
Made plenty enemies
It was a classic album, but prior to that
Guerilla Black
forget that boy told you
Get, that, dirt off your shoulder
I probably owe it to y'all, proud to be locked by the force
Tryin' to hustle some things,
Young nigga jookin' on the back block
In the kitchen whippin' 'til my hands hurt
Foreign door, Push got the trap spot
Couple nights shovin' hard by my
the good die young
If that's the case I guess I'll be dead by 21
Should I have some kids now
To carry on my legacy sorry lemme stop
My thought are getting
Always had the best homegrown
Grew it out on County Road 886
We'd sit and talk and listen to Neil Young
In the middle of a corn field
Was the crop
ain't heard nothin' yet
Neil young well he ain't dumb no
He plays with Lucas, Willie nelsons son
And oh yeah, oh yeah,
And oh yeah, and oh yeah
It's
From the album best of donovan
An' my belly is craving, I got shakin' in my head
I feel like I'm dyin' an' I wish I were dead
If I lived till
on (come on)
I'm talking to you, come on the Working Hour
This is the working hour
We are paid by those who
Learn by our mistakes
This is the working hour
mentioned by Neil Young when he sang
Dr Bob was a master of the Ancient Greek
and lectured that History was a game of hide and seek
Preacher Bob never cheated
_(cropped).jpg/203px-DesertTrip2016-140_(29685063324)_(cropped).jpg "Neil Young")
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