Lyrics:
in a different league like the NBA
fuck all the The envy hate
snakes and the bad mind
Grew up on Estates were black everything cats weren't a bad
known to rock
You hear the bass from the truck when I'm on the block
Ladies they pay homage, but haters say Dre fell off
How nigga?
My last album was
it we ball
I beat the state, I'm feeling good, nigga had left me in awe
Pop taught me how to always clean the handprints off my car
Passed by these
Lukasyno Peja black album
Tak to robią stare wilki
Niczym mrok który spowił miasto czarny charakter
Tak bezszelestnie się skradam każdy krok jest
AN OFF SEASON SUMMER
AND I DONT MEAN AN ALBUM BY J COLE
ITS OBVIOUS THAT YALL Achilles heel AINT JUST UNDER THE ANKLE
I STEPPED INTO MY GREATNESS
IT MADE
still aint in my league
Hard to catch when you moving at light speed
Did an album with the day one
We ain't hopping on no type beats
Black sheep I aint
Lukasyno peja black album
Tak to robią stare wilki
Niczym mrok który spowił miasto czarny charakter
Tak bezszelestnie się skradam każdy krok jest
phone, come by the crib
We in the pool, I slid it in
I slid it in, I slid it in
I take a quick shower then hit again
That fat chocolate ass is like m&m's
I
on the cover of the XXL magazine, lil nigga
This ain't no make believe, we just make believers
The only thing you and your enemies agree with
The album could
T mardi
Gras mask like in Face off
This Re-Up Gang movement it's the
Album of the year
Yeah they still push powder
Got talcum everywhere
My crooks, my
now?
I see a little nigga puttin' on
You've been warned
I could've sworn, I was born with a hoodie on
All black with an axe I ain't stopping
'til that
or athletes?
Man runner get caught by hand speed
Forget the violence
Be silent
Lay back in the black top whip with the plate on private
Back to my yard where I'm
been used
And it looked like I dipped it in cranberry juice
It looked like I covered my face in tomato ketchup
By the time that I was through
comptent .3.5.7
Drive by speed dans une 407
Mon son résonne de Nice jusqu'à Sete
Dans 5 piges je f'rai pendre vos têtes
Ici ça taffe dur, y a d'la pure
Starling
Music and Lyrics by Reese Roper from album Anti-Meridian
Filthy bird laying in our yard,
Four chamber heart never beat so hard.
Dad said
black cars
And everyday I see the news
And the problems that we could solve
When a situation rises
Just write it into an album
Send it straight to gold
I
stop
Cause its 187 on a muthafuckin cop
And ya stripes will get took quick, bust ya damn dick
By a reckless young black pit
Indo or tai, nigga lets get
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