Lyrics:
things steps on the brakes again and again
Shift it lug it move it on together with your point of view
It's getting hard to separate your baggage from you
blunt
Your walking point through my minefield
You gotta get out
Your on point in my minefield
Forever waiting for a road map
Speak, say something,
Chorus-2x
Hit the weed
Pass the dough
Mask'em face
Hide the yo
Ride on up
Not too fast
Point the guns
Kill yo' ass
1st verse
I'm
at it, let me please quickly point out
That glorifying racial violence is a stupid fucking thing to do, assholes
Learn to put the past behind you, don't
wanted,
Would you still point and laugh at me?
I cried once, but never again.
Not again.
I am not like you, so you don't like me.
You are so
a point of view why don't you ease your mind
Search the turning point inside
Well! Consider once in a while about your selfishness
See the turning point
of da killin' tool click
East Point
On this concrete is where I make my money at
On this concrete is where I make my livin' at
On this concrete is
don't care how the weather vane points
When the weather vane points to gloomy
It's gotta be sunny to me
When your eyes look into mine
Jeepers
herb
Rollin' down Main Street
East Point, I swerve, Campbelton Rd, Southside
Eight fify-five, jacket at bus top standin', sweatin' but, I ain't
Stop looking for answers
In everyone's face
Come on let's go
What's the point in wasting time
On people that you'll never know
Come on let's go
That's a fact
That's a fact
(Who made this?)
(JB made this, hahahaha)
Hol' up, slide
Pull up, drive (skrrt)
Whole point is a vibe
I just
That's a fact
That's a fact
(Who made this?)
(JB made this)
Hol' up, slide
Pull up, drive (skrrt)
Whole point is a vibe
I just want the top
there's a candle in your point of reference
Look at the candle
Tune in to the sound, don't think about anything else
Focus on the point, I said
Whats the point of dreams when your reality
Look how you got me
Crazy little me (crazy little me)
You go perfectly
With crazy little me (crazy little
Rich
Pablo, Gustavo, all for the Chapo (for the Chapo)
Blood diamonds on the Jesus
Wrist lit like the Wraith roof
If you see a bad bitch, point her
be here for you
Appreciate all you do
But not to the point of losing you
'Cause you work it, stressing, hustling, guessing
About how you gon' pay all
point of view
Point the finger at you, a girl in different shoes, my inspiration, the muse
This ain't really news. To you
born with hesitation onto floating stone
what better than a riverview
a slum by any other name scum
scum perfect and friendly to a given point
point
Maybe It's cos' of the way that I dress
They say I look out of place
And my taste is a mess
And there ain't
No point in trying
Cos' I know what
ruins, sunken below the waves
But in the city,
Where there is no one.
What's the point of being free, eh?
When there is nothing there to tie me down,
Oh,
to an end
We don't want your love
Respect at this point's pretty much out of the question
Times like these we sure could use a friend
Hitler, Stalin, men who
Bend, Margaret has Henry's child,
and crazed with grief and shame,
drowns it in a creek. This is the comic high point
of Goethe's original play,
and one
have to point at me?
Well I'm sitting alone thinking about it all over coffee
Still crowding my space are the things that you still hold against me
You
And i guess I am
And maybe I don't fit in
in your point of view
I can see your a rose in a bed of thorns in the morning dew
They call me country
Now how
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