Lyrics:
it)
And you know that choppa hold 50
Patek watch, cost me 350 (50)
Play my album and you know it's litty
Tryna (tryna), get it (get it), out the (out
luck
I move for my own when I become stuck
You can tell by my walls my patches get rough
But enough is enough
I'll spend my last dollar to finish this
thug boys
You niggas need a hug
Fill them up with slugs
Fuckin' with us
Will Get You kidnapped And
Duct taped
Surrounded by niggas in black masks and AKs
out if you cause my life trouble
Cause im sick and tired of gettin pushed around by people
Yall walkin and talkin like you dont know were equal
Better
of the billboard, top 20 in 12 months, and I'm a
Son of a bitch for it, new policy, new apologies, new kingdom, new democracy, I'm a king by
Birthright, not
of you
Yo swag looking rusty you should prolly stop at a Jiffy lube
Whole gang animals, met 'em by the county zoo
We like causing chaos like the city
and drugs
Too many girls getting pregnant by wanna be thugs
Cant pay the child support let alone the hugs
Shit only thing the kid gets is probably a hug
I
meravigliosamente kitsch-pop da Jacopo Festa
Grazie a Ivan e ad Alteria per avere impreziosito l’album con la loro presenza
suonano
Disgui - voce, chitarre, basso e
tailed by the feds again
They got me under close watch like Arizona Mexicans
Yeah I'm doing dirt if the police in the city can
No ID in the drivers seat
Take this picture so your memory last a little longer
Feel the burn, feel the rubble, getting nowhere problems
Pop a pill, procrastinate album
I'm a long way from fall, feel like passing off
They like Tech N9ne album, They on asinine
Asinine you know, They all asinine you know
Got more facets
competition I'd grab a hold of my belt
I spit a bar like I'm Kendrick then hold a note like Adele
So why not treat the top like homecoming and go by myself
I
a clock, but I punch a clown Smashing in your parents' crib, don't make a fucking sound
King of New York, I don't want the crown Ask whoever the king is by
I'm scrapin' up more of how that felt
To get me so hot that my racks melt
I could murder your whole Fuckin' album with a
30 second snippet of some shit
Hey man, is that TV Magic Coloring Kit?
Yeah, man
Well, turn it up, man!
We proudly offer a brand new album by Slim Whitman
Spaghetti sauce just
2
I spit wit every breath I ain't wasting an ounce, I got some albums and mixtapes I can't wait to announce,.. got more words I wanna rap I can't
keepin to myself that bitch she got me like police
You be confusing in the sheets
I'm steady cruising in the streets
By 22 I'm in the Grammys platinum
the fact it's real is so appealing
Cross faded as fuck, don't have to feel our feelings
Surrounded by my boys and we all higher than the ceiling
They my
by now, took time to craft bro
Ain't really what I was wanting, but it took a lot of bullshit out my path, WOAH
Of course there's new bullshit, but
Track: “Infected (feat. Benjels) [prod. Benjels]”
Artist: The Sargent & Bri Crisp (as Young Associates)
Album: “Summer Solcrisp: Vol. 2”
Year: 2020
view of my obstacles in my opticals
Breaking down the game like a molecule
With this album no flopping failing ain’t optional
Ten toes down to move
an "Encore". Here's a standing ovation.
To me you are the "Greatest".
You do more than the Jays and Waynes did.
Whenever there's rumours your albums coming,
I
an instance you’ll be lost by tomorrow
Seem the only time we talk is when i talk on song
See we used to have a spark, my only spark is my blunt
Yeah i need
I'ma make a pop album when y'all get bored
Then I'll make a dance hit, have ‘em hit the floor
cin't no limit on me, you can't hold me back
Not in for
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