Lyrics:
the strip club, still hunching on em'
Still ripping bands, homie by the grands
Im the young boss, follow my commands
Now I'm bring bought seven hands
Back
it
Every time I get it
Every time I get it out
I keep coming back to you
You blow my mind, baby
Girl, you knock me out
Ooh, wee (ooh, wee)
You
tonight
All these things inside your head
You've got to get it right
And the band played on
Spirits of the city
Were calling out my name
When
on a Sunday
By Monday morning I drifted away
All I want is to see her
All I want is to reach my weekend woman
Just can't seem to get back there
I'm getting
, high, strung, thug nigga created by pain
Livin' my life in the fast lane, give a fuck 'bout the past
Got my mind on my cash and my next piece of ass, so
double edge knives
Putting swords to back
Velour is black, Balenciagas on I'm strapped
I put my dawgs onto money and on the map
You want to see me
And I wish
I wish on a falling star
We could stay forever young
And never grow old
Written by
Eli Boyer
a young man too
Ho
Oh I said so long and I waved bye-bye
And I smashed my soul and traded my mind
Got laid by a young bordello
Who was vaguely half
hold my breath, don't know why
I can't see the sun when young should be fun (fun)
And I guess the bad can get better
Gotta be wrong before it's
life.
Now my mind begins to wander
To the days back on the farm.
I can see my father smiling at me,
Swinging on his arm.
I can hear my granddad's
Fuckin' on bands quick
Young trendsetter, diamonds on my Beretta
Down for whatever, don't care about the weather
Saint Laurent leather, ooh, I'm so clever
Bands stacking young gun totting
Addicted to smoking potent
Im choking
Higher level mind is open
Going hard I am chosen
Bands stacking young gun totting
these ambitions girl with the tip of my penis
To write stories, a young boy the genius
And I mean this, there's never been a day off
Never been laid off,
big start
The A-Bomb fears, Annette had ears, I lusted in my heart
A young man from Boston set sail the new frontier
And we watched the Dream
be
Lit up my neck, hit the lottery
Did it for Prodigy
Wilding in Prada
Oh while I be worth my mind and my prophecy
Coppin' these properties
Came
A young man strumming his guitar
In the corner of a bar
Singing 'bout a broken heart
For hours and hours
By closing time I face the fact
That if
gang shit, AP on my main bitch
She know I'm chasin' the set
I don't ever have that strange shit
I'm back in my bag bag, Louis V stance
You never see no
And Miss Mossburg love it in the back trunk
You know that old school bitch, she like to get it funked
And splitting motherfuckers by the seams
My grand
Here's my attempt to describe
How you make me feel so alive
I'll break it down one time
So listen line by line
Listen line by line
Listen line by
bankroll, my money, my money, my money
And where my money? Young nigga's gotta have that
Rubber bands by the grands in a big bag
Pockets fat like I'm
me back
Please take me back
He was the King of trees
Keeper of the glades
The way he enchanted my life
Makes me so amazed
We used to meet by
bottle, 'bout to bust open the cap
Don't mind me, I done came to fuck the club up
With a couple young niggas from the A
Top downs ridden by the wayside
Whip
Throwed like eli bitch name whitney love my cotton she on gin
I did this shit by my lonely pull up like the rock do you smell the pot
I am so sick
Travel through my mind am I
Blind it's a shame
Young niggas gettin' murdered straight
Took out the game
As I sit here puffin' on a cigarette
Gotta be
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