Lyrics:
that .57 on his ass be done did a burpee
READYMADE for this shit I'm in Denim Tears
Meeting with the dentist on the 9th finna get veneers
Think they
Question: Who sits on a throne and commands an army at the same time?
There is only one, and His name is Jesus.
Prince of Peace; God of War
on and on
As I write this song
Goes on and on
Our life goes on
By tomorrow today's a ghost
You have forgotten everything
From the way we used to live
Today is
BLOODCLAAT!
Mi gun write di songs wid
Hollow tips from bwoy skin
When we a kill bumbohole some
Pussy a trim yeah
Any war weh mi fight mi win
Any war dem crown
song's got
And I love you more than writing love songs
In all the little things we do
I could sing about it fine
Write a poem, make it rhyme
But I'd
Write a few songs with our friends
I think we've done enough running
Take me down to the house by the river
Take me home
I'm ready for my hands to get
the moon, so
I don't wanna be twenty-something
And still in my head about
Seventeen, in my bedroom talking
You said that by now
We'd paint the walls
Lying in my bed I think of you
That song goes through my head the one we both knew
In each line lies another line full of sacred sound
But
is strong
Write a world where we can belong
To each other and sing it like no other
Oh, if I could hear myself when I say
(Oh love) love is
Tar-heel boy sings a song
Bout a girl who ain't comin' home
By n by, by n by
She worked too long in the mill
She's gone to those rolling hills in
band
We won't talk about the habits
Just the music and the man, that's all
Now Hank, you just got to tell me
Did your daddy really write all them
Lying in my bed, I think of you
That song goes through my head, the one we both knew
In each line lies another line full of sacred sound
But
at ease)
(Hey DJ, can you play a song for me?)
(Sweet music really puts my soul at ease)
I want my good wood by the ounce
My garage full of cars that bounce
we comin' to get ya
Woop, woop, five-o's comin' in the exit
Keys jinglin', nine danglin' to wreck shit
Step into my cypher, haven't you
Gucci mane
Two things
Trap house
Gucci mane in the building (Gucci, Gucci)
Laflare, big kat (laflare)
Say we got it like that (like that)
we got some wine
We played a word game to pass the time
When the food arrived, I knew something was wrong
The only thing to do was write a serious song
for the song of the forgotten South,
just don't hang us up here.
Step by step by please though proletarian am I.
By chance am you "wine git out
it, then get the wax utensils
Write my rhymes straight up, don't get with no fancy stencils
The rhymes we get is sweet, we stay away from tart
Our
me just write these songs
We should be basically
In a dream but you're asleep
I am on and I know you miss me
Smoking L's by the sunset
Your nails match
stolen my heart
I don't know, won't you take my hand
Cause I've got a feeling
We could write letters
We could write letters
Once again
I sit here like
Last night,
A room full, drunk,
Sang along to the songs I never had
The courage to write.
Given the chance
I'd stay in this chorus forever,
about you
I'm tired of writing sad songs about you
I just wanna write a love song even though were through
The twist and the turns
Singin songs by
painted my prison
Now something's wrong
and I never ever ever wanted to write this song
I always thought things would change somehow
And we would
and just you
And while we're versifying
We'd better start trying
To write another song just for me
Just for you, one more Jeru
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