Lyrics:
as ordinary
I'm not living off the land, but I'll take all I can carry
You're my home
We play Frank Sinatra as we talk about our days
We prep the kitchen
to make dough, like Jurassic
Parked in quick to spark kids who start shit
See me, only me
The Underboss of this holocaust
Truly yours, Frank White
and The Country Roads Collection Albums.
You know sometimes I can't get to sleep at night
I can't quiet my heart or my mind
I toss and turn, I ache and burn
I get
to make dough, like Jurassic
Parked in quick to spark kids who start shit
See me, only me
The Underboss of this holocaust
Truly yours, Frank White
don't eat up in our whispa' they got paper plates,
Soon as we leave the club damn let the models go,
One word I forgot to say on his album, Hollygrove!
What it do nigga
This your nigga T-Streets bang bang
In the building
This young money
First up
My nigga, Gudda Gudda
Double "G"
Blap, blap
Bazookas and fisticuffs, meditating in Porsches
98-karat stickshift, Chinatown late night meals
Alfonzo giving me a backrub, 2 pm lazer bizzaginal
Opera then chill, upgraded my Netflix
From a night out to nightcap then cop some breakfast
Checks on the checklist
Commenced when pecks by her necklace
I don't sleep anymore, I'm working all night
But Mamma I'm ok
My head's in the clouds but something's not right
But Mamma I'm ok
I promise I'm ok
cutting up that plant
So really bad
With two hundred Frank Sinatras
Who couldn’t make me a non-starter
In the race to the bottom of your heart
And I know
Don't feel bad
Because the sun went down
The moon is made of gold
* (Oh you) See how the shadows
Enhanced by the light above
Dance in the night
like Frank at the fight
Fuck around and get shanked by a knife, shot by a shotty
Spanked in a fight, the life of the party
Late night when I'm out
with a smile
Watchin' me prosper
Attackin' with the raps and then conquer
The junior Frank Sinatra, rapping out the Opera
You should spectate in
a smile
Watchin' me prosper
Attackin' with the raps and then conquer
The junior Frank Sinatra
Rapping out the Opera
You should spectate in the booth
With
Wasted and wounded
And it ain't what the moon did
I got what I paid for now
See you tomorrow
Hey Frank can I borrow
A couple of bucks from you
to me
But I don't think I can tell you while your boyfriend's here
And now I talked to Frank Sinatra
Whose over there singing tunes
The 1937 Flood is in
I'm going in after hitting this ganja
out to dinner with the hommies grab a table at the comma
I'm a
new millennium Sinatra
cop a marijuana from
My way, my own
My way, my own
My way, my own
My way, my own
Frank Sinatra, my path
Started back in that class
Stretched steel in my hands
Pluck
buy
My homies rolled by in a bucket, but they ain't short and duckin'
Slappin' niggas known for tellin' bitches fuck it in the late night
"Last
your wrist at?
I can kill you in four bars, that's a Kit Kat
Did the Lambo my way with a sick wrap
Smooth as Frank Sinatra with a motherfucking slick
She's a pillar by the day, a fire by the night
She's a famous architect, like Frank Lloyd Wright
When it comes to tightrope walkin', she's world
(C.W. McCall, Bill Fries, Chip Davis)
When the snow falls on Christmas Eve,
And everything's white
I sit by the window,
And remember another night
with
Frank Sinatra's big band by my side
It's an unavoidable cliche
I wish it didn't have to be that way
Because I love you is what I'm trying to say
But
whole-hearted
Sweet and supportive, family's pouring in
Somber night but good to see them again
Jokes are told through gently tight lips
Soundtracked by
.jpg/228px-Frank_Sinatra_(1957_studio_portrait_close-up).jpg "Frank Sinatra")
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