Lyrics:
God
Understand it never took time for granted
It's alright, Ma, as a child of the sixties
Along the watchtower
I can't bet they're going to miss me
I'm
that on my momma
Chin up, we raised the bar
High, now we don't need a
Build-up, chillin' by the
Side, gold flowers fill the
Kingcup, peace out
Feelin'
Yeah, we getting pay sixty on the fades
Ridin' around my city getting my life straight (Yeah)
Yeah, we Texas-born never separate (Beast mode)
good
A gold soul theory leaves you hate less
Look within
Don't give a fuck if your going for your doctorate
Or you're fourth beat tape
If it's your road
that gold I give you new fashion
All Andrew Jackson's yo wrist be flashing
Outfits be matching seatbelts be fastened
I'm on yo team bae I am
entertainment
All-access passes, gold plates on top of silk fabrics (yeah, yeah)
Backstage to Backpage got bitches by the duos (yeah)
Palace like a group home,
servin' my cocaine raw
Drop sixty-two off the brick, jump back
Twenty over now that's mo' money to get
Slick, we fin' to lick on this corner without
screaming in hell
No such thing as a bail
Nor a saved by the bell
When the heat is for real
Better throw in the towel
Before you empty your bowels
And be
thing as a bail
Nor a saved by the bell
When the heat is for real
Better throw in the towel
Before you empty your bowels
And be burned in your own waste
Wait, hold up, chill, what's that, son?
Damn nigga got fucked, shit, huh
By his back, watch nigga run
Seven the center of your eight point Sun
When I twist her in the Gold sedan
Like I'm Goldie man, you're bitch chose me man
Jigga man, iceberg with the frozen hands
Wedding bands don't make it
my name, and Pharoahe Moch, why we came what?
We off the chain, plus we plottin on the chain, what?
Know ya role, by the way tuck ya gold
And you
ya role, by the way tuck ya gold
And you and your mic can ease on down the road
Assholes are like opinions, everybody got to have one
Shootin' in
Peace
Hope
Growth
Our country lacks this
We’ve been lacking it for 60 years
And we don’t have to die just to ask for this
In memory of the souls lost
Psycho by Xavier Graves and I'shawn
It's just that hard, yuh, yuh
Life is short, gang! Death is long, ooh
Steven is fat
And I know you wanna hear me
to my lime
Pray 2 god just need a sign
Know he taking his sweet time
Just the gold up in a mine
Keep that gold up in your teeth
End those troubles
End
like episodes soon as I walk by
Man I'm straight pimping hoes by the age of 5
I work overtime straight pullin' dimes
It's a nine to nine trying to blow
and Yayo go back like some high top fades
When I made fifty mill, Em got paid
When I made sixty mill, Dre got paid
When I made eighty mill, Jimmy got
It was the Senior High School yearbook
The class of sixty-three
I'll never forget the day you gave
Your book and pen to me
It was all talked
Turned off the TV, sat down to dinner
Phone rang, we were saying grace
Grandma died left us sixty acres
The last of the old home place
Sixty acres
Turned off the tv
Sat down to dinner
Phone rang, we were saying grace
Grandma died
Left us sixty acres
The last of the old home place
Sixty
illegal funds
Why this stripper, she didn't let me fuck? Still kept all the ones (damn)
Damn (damn), and I ain't no sucker
House by the lake with
and Upstate touring, rapping for my peers
Rikers Island and Upstate scoring, cut Em blood gone spill
Rikers Island and Upstate mourning, cut off by Securus
You stick up kids, sticking up grown men
Damn I'm a rapper man, like don't make me take your gold again
Before we was rapping we was knocking niggas
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