Lyrics:
the pics
Catch me never lackin' in a simulation like I'm protected by the feds
This is the world, juice headed in the sands
I ain't antisocial, I ain't
my biz', spreading my shit
Said I should quit
Get on my nerves, sending those words
Next day probably gonna get on my dick
All of y'all fake, riding my
dance soon
Then I go impress myself with other kinds of damn tunes
Diss my friends with your mouth, Imma man the harpoons
Oh, shit, you know how it is
said, I focused on me and you mad that I did
Now you all in my biz, spreading my shit, said I should quit
Get on my nerves, sending those words, next day
that shit so
I had to make my own way by myself
I had to make a own name by myself
I couldn't get rich, I didn't have shit
I didn't have enough so I did
It's just I'm gettin' heated by the way things is
Who says racism ain't the same biz?
It's a joke what the man calls "rehabilitation"
Keepin' all
tapped by the feds, I can't even fix my lips up to say shit
If she ain't givin' me head, I ain't entertaining no conversation
Bitch I'm cryin', bitch I
a haunted house, got soul by the pound
If you wanna dance, think about it right now
See, I'm not in it, yo, listen, I'm not in it
This song's about beats,
finna handle my biz
Betta get up out my hair cause i aint got time to get frizzed
I ont need to get high like khlaifa cause im already a wiz
This is
alone
I don't know what's after me
By myself made this sacrifice For me
Told myself my success up to Me
Tryna sing a song
To console my sad feelings
Ride
getting the dough
I want the money and I want the bag
I wanna party and I wanna dance
I want the money and I want the bag
I wanna party and I wanna dance
tight
Reminiscing on memories from last midnight
Time constraints why I hate music biz
I counter punch clocks, pay no attention what time it is
Chop
True leaf dance
Four cornered man
Pull up late in an off white van
Don't dare to escape when I pop at your mans
Livin to take yeah we harbor the fans
Cornbread and ribs, don't worry this grown folks biz
Gonna dance with my girl, before it's too late, dance with my girl before it's late
Summertime Groove
You
you forget.
Get, get, get.
La da de dah da da, La da de da da da dow dom.
I'm in and out a pig channel serrated by hand feeders.
Army of vicious
on 9-1-1
While you kicking up punchlines and puns
Man fuck that shit, this is serious biz
By the time Bush is done, you won't know what time it is
If
and disembodied after smoking a baddie with the
buddies that make somebody wanna dance in the traffic and shawties Lodi dodi.
I’m syndicated not barricaded I’ve got
'm the funkalistic rapper choke an instant
Got mixed wit Malibu rums and Mistic
I'm a whole lot on it yea just a smidget
Just 'cause I live by the beach
to
Hittin people like a scene of amazement
Floored by Erick Sermon arrangement
Frontin I can never do (uh-huh)
So now I'm lookin dead at you, so what you
that's just how it is
but I'ma do music and love it because I say screw the biz
How my visions distorted, my ideas never exported
I was following
on the plane
I wish I dream I pace I feign
Can't make beats I cannot sing
I cannot dance I've got no chance
Why the fuck should I even try
Why the fuck should I
in this thing and you know that!
You just wanna slow dance, how about I grab you by your hips
Kiss you in the mouth and teach you 'bout some romance?
I
crushed" velvet dress
But I stayed by the bar cuz I already know how it go
I already saw the show
See I went to a club like this in Toronto
And came back
Yeah I keep me a band in the bookbag
Why you drive-by if you ain't gonna do that?
Glock 22, with the kick back
Shots keep missin', I know you can't
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