Lyrics:
From southern trapping dear mr. west how you snatched me
Pull me back to reality see yo life as a casualty writing while on my balcony my baby
mama told me wash the dishes
Had to hit my niggas up
I'm like Kyrie how I dish's it
We ain't have no pot to piss in
Only thing was hopeful wishing
I be
gymnastics
Mr.Little Benjamin hey what's happenin'
Kyrie Irving do em' dirty with passes
Gucci frames let me take off my glasses
Buddy snapping should've had
do is love and love is all you do
I should know by now the way I fought for you
You're not to blame, everyone's the same, whoa
I know you think
you need? (I need a real man)
Let's get down to the statistics
I'm fantastic, ask any mystik
Mr Joe grind to who we only passed through
A strong
always been Ethel
"Jacob, wake up, you've got to tidy your room now"
And then Mister Lewis
"Isn't it time that he was out on his own?"
Over the garden
always been Ethel
"Jacob, wake up, you've got to tidy your room now"
And then Mister Lewis
"Isn't it time that he was out on his own?"
Over the garden
competition call me Mister
When I Collude, with Mr. Len it's brainfood, strictly
Never again I let a record label trap me
Try to clap me, with paperwork
say, disk and dat, disk and dat
And Mr. Engineer make sure me track comes out fat
Me say, disk and dat, disk and dat
And Mr. Engineer make sure me
tapped me on the shoulder
With a mistletoe hanging right overhead
She said, Mister, don't I know ya
Aren't you Mr. Mistletoe
The very man that I met
About
Bird
Threes drop Curry served
Coach like Pop I know the game
Lakers Phil bangarang
Chase down block Mr. James
Iguodala end of game
Think twice before you
Josh used to serve em
In a El Dorado lac
Alotta stacks
Told the teller
Go and tell them niggas that
Brrrattt
Porsche pass by
And everybody lookin
Raw
the list
Ion pop Percocets, I rather get it jumpin' off the Liq'
Just made twenty-two hunnid on Kyrie Irving, Mavericks
I came a long way, don't pass
Gotham City
By the end of the night
Mr Rodgers how I stroll through
Your neighborhood with the 45
On a beautiful day
Bitch ima demon
I step on my enemies
the roof missing
Man i been buzzing been bubbling like some stew chicken
You should call me shine time
By the way my jewels glisten
Hit the bank and Double
know Ima' drawl' for my baby by any means
I think it's your call do you feel like it's meant to be?
These day's I can't really tell if it's you or me
I
powerball
I'm finna' burn it all
wild'n out in the halls
Wake n bakin is my protocol
Girl yo ball control is on kyrie Irving
I'm swervin'
Y'all servin'
Jordan's but im feeling like a martian
I'm Mr. Put That Shit On, Shai Gilgeous-Alexander
J Dolla wipe his nose, he slimy like a salamander
Ice on my neck
…
And, I stack my motherfuckin' deck, my cards up
Got Off White all up on my body bitch, look like a condo, it look like a plaza
Get chopped up by my
All this wealth and n inner peace didn't come cheap
Like Kyrie Irving know my bag know is hella deep
Yall get sloppy drunk
And you know I stay
rapper about to blow
But his album came, and it was not good
I think it went lead or double copper-wood
So the silly little fans, they were misled
By
always been Ethel
"Jacob, wake up, you've got to tidy your room now"
And then Mister Lewis
"Isn't it time that he was out on his own?"
Over the garden
again.
I could hear the city bells
Ring whatever I would do.
No, there's no place—
Todd:
No, there's no place like London.
Anthony: [Spoken]
Mr. Todd,
cats gettin green, by all means love the war
A midnight special billy New York call
So when you squeeze it kid, of you bound to fall
[Mr. Cheeks]
.jpg/227px-Kyrie_Irving_-_51831772061_01_(cropped).jpg "Kyrie Irving")
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