Lyrics:
are at the door
the Magnum was by the ashtray
(New Jersey) He bout to go out like Scarface
He woke up in a cardboard box with no space
with Thug
a checkered double-knit suit drove up in a large El Dorado Cadillac, leased from BOB SPREEN...
("Where the freeways meet in Downey!")
...And he laid
it
Yeah, it turns me on
Alright, hold tight
I'm a highway star, yeah
Nobody gonna take my girl
I'm gonna keep her to the end
Nobody gonna take
facts
If I fuck 'em, you won't get your dick back
You my Lil' Uzi, the choppa got kickback (ah)
Tastes like candy, he wanna lick that, banana clip,
her
It's 2002 and my family just
Moved and the only
People I know are my mom's friend, Sue
And her son he's got a case of Matchbox cars
And he says that
might have to bobs your aunty
Plus she is actually indigenous and aware of her surroundings
My cousin is a townie that means he dresses mediocre
I only
I'm really hopin' you drop him
It's morals I really have, it's lines I could never cross
But you got somethin' that make all them good intentions get
New check for that money, it been acclaimed
Hold on, she callin' me
Say she really like a nigga, she know I'm fuckin' with her
She don't know that
I'm dodgin debacles like pot holes in Jamaica,
We cut down the weed, bury the paper on dem acres.
Martin had a dream, Bob got high,
I still do both
1008 done turn to ashes i'm stuck inside my own madness
worst thing i could imagine started to happen
i ain't really have no daddy then i lost my
(In the name of The Lord)
Get a clue, little shrew
Oh yeah, oh yeah
Jesus thinks you're a jerk
Did he really choose Tammy to do His Work?
Posted on the corner like a trapper (uh)
Why he move his hands all around like a rapper (uh)
Why he move his pants up and down like the scrapper
you got her head big
Three hundred a line for the Wock', I'm sippin' red still
I know how the feds feel, I make it hard to catch me
Cuz sellin' corn
down in the prairie,
And the golden hair is a flame,
I say "do you really love me, Mary?"
I hold her and I whisper her name.
Do you think
rap rock'n'roll
Tidy Bowl, gun hold pro, Starsky with the gumsole
Hit the rum slow, parole kids, live Rapunzel
But Ton' Stizzy really high, the vivid
were born to die
So fuck mom and father cries
I was one never to bother guys
But when my girl got sadamized
I was dramatized
Shoved the dick down her
by himself
Hold too tight she will slip away
Like Sand
Like Sand
Oh he thinks she just
Insecure
And that he’s doing her a favour when he
and saw it hurt tho' I went to see her
And waiting another long there and saw Bob there
He was going
No peace for
He was ready to beat me 'cause I didn't
Drought Boy wizzle Fizzle Bizzle n your area
Wen a nigga got money nd he ballin out
Wat dat Boyz worst fear fear of tha Drought
Wen tha block run
Not the platinum she was after
"He fully got the color right and
It’s so perfect, I’m like, ‘Don’t make
Me fly out to Paris every time
I need to color
Three eighty for my thirteenth birthday, (birthday)
I promised her I wouldn't let you motherfuckers hurt me, (yeah)
So y'all get back, Jeezy got
I said thanks for the blessings he sendin'
Please ask him to forgive me for the sins I commit
Just let him know I'm still young and at risk
Say,
exhale
I know you tryna get high
Type of shit that have ya leaning sideways
Make her work for this suicide
Holla at me 'cause I got it all day
No
got wet, I'm vexed really
They snatched off his Rolex, smacked his bitch silly
Why niggas actin' illy? Word to Will, he 'bout to feel it
I feel it,
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