Lyrics:
Dreams and aspirations
Will never be achieved
By hesitation
Issa money marathon not a race
When we cop our foreigns
We gon race
Between me
MAC, for the chit-chat
Did the drive-by, in the matte-black Hellcat
Picked up an opp bitch in the same Hellcat (yeah)
Suck on the dick, now the bitch
your comparisons
I've been talking to God like that's my therapist
I'm African-American in America
I ain't inherit shit but a millionaire under 30
So
I beat yo' ass twice and you still here
Seven years old, think you run this house by yourself?
Nigga, you gon' fear me if you don't fear no one else
niggas something?
Made 100K this week, that's on my dead mama
Spend a hundred seventeen and I ain't even know it
Dawg I swear my coat is nice and wasn't
From money we never made
American dreams faltering
Grabbed by those with power
Working hard now won't help you
Hooked up, S5, hope we get a nice deal
And even if I do
I'm gon' always remain Mike Millz
Dawg, what you gon' tell me?
How you gon' sell me?
You can't
were you when the promise was made
To retrurn and rebuild
To restore to its people
The city that gave us the first American music
The true inspiration
British, then American.
This feels wrong. It feels wrong. They're absent parties.
This feels wrong. It feels wrong.
And, we are traders, yes, by trade.
Five score years ago, a great American, in whose symbolic shadow we stand today, signed the Emancipation Proclamation. This momentous decree came
american women's suffrage association NAWSA was established with Susan B. Anthony as their leading force
But women had been fighting for their rights since
and somehow I see by
Wrote a letter to the concrete, PS we strong
You was at your hardest when
You didn't even try
Live like a bitch, to bitch you gon' die
made it throught the rain
I kept my point of view
I made it through the rain
And found myself respected
By the others who
Got rained on too
And made it
of a military man
It’s the way of life and I understand
And I’m so proud to say
Made me who I am today
I hope down the road I find a real good man
That’s
And the Hahira leaders in their rented Tuxedos made the local hearts swell with pride
Chorus
It's a typical American phenomenon where all the members have
niggas even made it this far
You like something something Rollie Ima fuck yo bitch dawg
And these just listen like damn that shit hard it's pathetic
You
Deep inside the armour's core
Made of hurt and endless anger
No one sees your heart no more
Hidden there by iron and leather
Fight my brother
Fight
Dipping, y'all boys penny pinchin'
You can't hit my line if you ain't got no pull like the Warriors
This car I'm in American made, pulled up with a foreigner
'round playin' payback and that shit hurt
I should've treated you better (21)
Used to deal with lames 'til she ran into a stepper (on God)
Big dawg
respect the game
I talked to cab drivers about the fast lane
And Islam, masters and shakras? and beyond
Think about the hustle and somehow I see by
But
beneath the meat
And it felt sweet
And I'm ten years late
And out of date
But that all sounds like something just made up by the kids in New York
Who still
to mention (you to mention)
Tell em I gave you a hook and I made your song a hit (song a hit)
Tell em I put my dick in your girl and made her a trick (a trick)
I got a shirt made by little girl's hands,
In a little warehouse on a little island.
I bet she's even got herself a little boyfriend,
But she'd
you don't bang shit? Same shit, still a get you fried
Drop somethin' then skate off, I still remember six to nine
Fuck, dawg, he hatin' on me, I still
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