Lyrics:
Will you dance with me, my blooming hibiscus//
Will you marry me my blooming hibiscus//
Grow old with me my blooming hibiscus//
I promise I ain't
trying to split up.
This never ending, To-do list
Will I be spending the next thirty years doing the same old motherfucking shit?
Why does it matter when
Streets still a blaze, you can cry on me
Do you know what today is? (birthday)
It is your birthday
It is definitely your birthday, you're five years old
I make big money
I drive big cars
Everybody know me
It's like I'm a movie star
But late at night something ain't right
I feel I'm being tailed by
I make big money
I drive big cars
Everybody know me
It's like I'm a movie star
But late at night something ain't right
I feel I'm being tailed by
on trees
Shawty told me that she into me, asking my body count
Told her count by threes
She wanna come over
That's alright with me
Counting up dollars, I'm
the sky (in the sky)
Manufactured by that uncle Walter guy
We'll give thanks to that old geezer
And we'll keep him in the freezer
When we reach that Magic
And she called me by name
My Mary Christmas
She's lookin' so fine
Oh My Mary Christmas
Musta fell out the sky
She brought a six pack
And 2 bottles a wine
Eyes wide shut but they know
Buried alive by the lies in their soul
Their stride of a blind man's stroll
Well for whom does the next bell toll
I'm
I'm a kid, I'm 24 years old
I like to fly in a plane, call a woman a dame
Like the Empire State it's recognition I gain
Stet Troop and a beat,
My name is Benjy Stone and 1954 was my favorite year
Not my best year, not the year I had the most success but my favorite year
It's the year that
remarried, had my little brother Gary
My sister a year later, let me gather my thoughts
By the time I was nine, I was outta my mind
My step pops didn't like
did you
Think I meant
Steven cvery
Manitowoc is whack
So are crooked cops
cnd
Mister Kratz
Tried sexting
c twenty six year old
One of his victims
heart that it wasn't right
And he knew that he needed to get away from it
Now I want you to also imagine, that at 17 years old
This child, okay, leaves
Big moves fly chicks fly whips
Swift smooth high shit I vibe with
Risk takers six seven figure makers
Haters hate we get this cake while seeing them
Yo! Here’s some stuff I learned when I was old. Every rhyme you write has a soul
It has a life. You breathed in it! So don’t disease in it. More
break
Don’t know about a physical heaven and hell, ain’t seeing no miracles let me be real
If a 6 year old Muslim boy gets killed by a Christian’s bomb
John and Lucky saw me off
The whistle called the times
Just six days out to the coast
Just six days behind
But I've seen every state since
bondage for years
For how long?
Trapped up in the ghetto
Yea that's true
Dang I got a dream though
Fiction
Tryin to make my own progress
That's
in bondage for years
For how long?
Trapped up in the ghetto
Yea that's true
Dang, I got a dream though
Fiction
Tryin to make my own progress
trust just abuse
For many years
So he fed up
Telling her fuck you
Back to the streets
He ran away to
17 years old
Now what he was up to
Required
I make big money
I drive big cars
Everybody know me
It's like I'm a movie star
But late at night something ain't right
I feel I'm being tailed by
rider
I'm a modern day old soul singer
Son of a gun and guitar slinger
I spent 10 years pickin on a six string
Working the bar-scene
Burnin it down
nice a guy to say they're lyin'.
Now I've been makin' love professionally since I was only six years old.
And I really learned the way to wiggly wag
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