Search results for 'by i wrote album willie nelson' Page #35

Chauffeured by the latest and greatest strand or brand of pessimism 
This album’s dedicated to a basement fulla addicts 
It’s too hot up in the kitchen 
Had

'm bout' nigga scram
Nigga hollin' on the ground Might catch her up and then I face him

Two grinds and wrote this album Baby Joe, make him eat his maker

a favor
Every word you ever wrote for this album, you save it
Cause at one point it's all you ever wanted to say
Past you needed it heard, fuck the you

of albums sold where does their money go they ain't got not a clue at all
I don't go by the rules I got a job to do
I ain't got shit to prove y'all let them

and aim at her pussy at Tootsies when throwing them tips
Its Pltnm or plomo
And all my diplomas are plaques
I just wrote an album it's basically beats over

who gives a shit
I just don’t want this life to happen to me like some peers I used to kick it wit
Just a black man abiding by the law
At his choosing,

I was born a complex kid

Ahead of the pack I been leadin em Alpha's a title I bleed for em
One day I'll sell all my albums on vinyl then sleep to em

a dead body last album toe tagged
Murder she wrote
God face was like shopping nowadays get cha own bag
I told ya so
Printed paper this ain't Staples these

all that fair, end of day
I would scrap this whole ass album all to spend just a day
In the singular place I feel comfortable that's with you cause you

a scrimmage 
I dropped the album got right back to work cause I ain't finished 
So f*** the intermission, keep the break I'm well replenished 
They playin'

niggas gonna get your proof
Every day I listen to the greats
All the albums and the mixtapes
Takin itty-bitty pieces tryna add em to myself
Till the time

Who going through it
If you only knew it
This ain't only music
All the songs I wrote bout my battles
I cannot count em
But I still don't think that they

where does their money go they ain't got not a clue at all
I don't go by the rules I got a job to do
I ain't got shit to prove y'all let them lie to you

like a minute
Song for the Ville by J. Cole hit me different
The descriptions of an 8-mile kid's album infinite
Gives me the inspiration that I might

could've sang Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da together and taught their children songs by the Beatles

And I cant imagine that the guy that wrote Imagine would've been

shootin', sike, I made you look

Yo, I spilled my guts last album and y'all thought it was suicide
The snakes in the grass and the rats in the sewer died

the book I wrote
It's just another path on the journey for me to be the GOAT
There's just another part of the album that people gonna quote
It's just another

Traumatized by shit I seen or heard
But making it just fine
Still question it like why?
Why you always call me when you're lonely?
Why you never call me when

of my life passing by with no rhyme or reason behind why I don't try
But if I'm gonna be the best dead or alive then I'll find out a way to escape

momma and my brothers in need
Now shall I proceed to prove everybody wrong
In the studio going strong in my own zone
Memos filled of verses, got albums in

valiums,
Drinkin’ milk to get some calcium,
Wrote another  couple other albums,
Smokin’ weed till I leave up on a falcon. 

Everybody think about it. “What?

They whole time I was locked I wrote shit like Ice Cream Man
An that's a ringup I call Knumskull my nigga
Lets call the group the Lunitoonz nigga lets

I'm givin' it to you old school style, no album cover gimmicks,
No intros, no shout outs, nothin' but straight lyrics,
If you in your car buckle

ain't an album cut I'm still getting my demo reel off
Ma I promise our break through on the horizon
Know your son has got a lot more left inside em