Lyrics:
wrong and get by.
Now, lessons tend to fade as we grow older
And I found myself in jail at twenty-five
Had to sit there by my lawyer, the old judge
Gotta have that
Uh, uh, uh
I will rob and steal witcha, dog nigga what
Ride 'til we die, on 'til it's up
Thick like blood, where's my dogs
Uh,
wouldn't even count, lil bitch this our year
I do it for my fam, 20 racks on gifts
Bitch we blowin' gas, roll me up a spliff
Now what you think a young
nice
If I pop up, I'ma want it, but I get by (get by)
Tell the devil I can't have him inside
Tell the reaper he don't want it, he don't want it
Oh, I
Don't need no palace paved with gold
Don't need more cash than banks can hold
When I get to feelin' a feelin'
For something there ain't too much
me how it feel to be a millionaire
I had to smash lil' shawty with my jeans on
And I had my pistol in my pocket
Can't trust none of these bitches,
Ooh, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
(O oh) yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
20 below is how I feel right now
20 below is how I feel right now
I can’t do
If I was hit and I was hurt would you be by my side?
If it was time to put in work would you be down to ride?
I'd get out and peel a nigga cap
(Southside on the track, yeah)
(808 Mafia) Hey
I can tiptoe in her pussy like a Loub, Chanel (ayy)
Harriet Tubman twenties, weigh 'em up
autumn brown
But I really only want to get to you
Sitting by the window, watching ocean going by
Seems I should be with you but how fast can this
me how it feel to be a millionaire
I had to smash lil' shawty with my jeans on
And I had my pistol in my pocket
Can't trust none of these bitches,
drive em
Home theaters, can't Best Buy 'em
These niggas that I roll with
Don't let a single thing get by 'em
King pins and them drug lords
Chi-town,
whitney
Get too tired to write and died in prison
Felt like rob tonight, whose my god tonight?
Oh sometimes I get so ahead of myself
Feel like I
'm switchin' out hoes and thots (switch out the thots)
I Richie'd the watch (Richie)
I made me an M on the spot (M on the spot)
I took twenty-five hoes in
Hopin' that it don't get shut
By these police makin' raids on those of us who know what's up
My lil' uzi weighs a ton, man, I truly ain't the one
My
"Hi, ho, Silver" and, "Get 'em up, Scout"
But I suffered aggravation and a great humiliation
So I finally said I'd let the story out
You can't ride
through, through
There may be a kingdom for me
Somewhere if I only knew
You're a king
Yes You can see I am
I look for truth
And find that I get damned
What
You can fuck my bitch, you can have my hoe
Get yours, get yours, get yours by any means
You can smoke that kill, you can push that dope
Get yours,
Jury design the sportin' (okay)
I told her nine and forty (you know that)
Nigga get done if he run up, can't ever let 'em get one up
Tellin' me roll
let's get high tonight (my lil' homies)
Lil' homies on the mash
Runnin' from these punk police
'Cause lil' niggas run the streets
I remember, when
don't dry tears, I just aim at them on purpose like bla'!
Mini-14 like bla'!
Empty out another magazine like bla'!
Let a young nigga get by!
I kill
When I done quit hollerin' baby
I believe I shake 'em on down
Get my babe won't be late
You know by that I mean seconds late
Ah must I holler
with my homie Lil' 1/2 Dead
Murder was the case that they gave me
Dear God, I wonder can you save me?
I'm only eighteen, so I'm a young buck
It's
Seventy-thousand in my ears (Wanna rob myself)
This a half a mill right here
(Wanna rob myself)
Hey Plies it's a robbery, get up!
I'm talkin' to myself though,
_1895-6.jpg/300px-Lautrec_la_troupe_de_mlle_eglantine_(poster)_1895-6.jpg "Can Can")
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