Lyrics:
white thighs
I only see afro bitches up in my eyes
I don't eat no beef and surely not no pork
I used to drink that 8, but now I shove it down your throat
me all the time she not by my side
Livin life, from paycheck to paycheck
Now that I, pay rent, dont got the payment
I'm runnin outta patience I needa
When I let my guard down
I see who you really are
Knock me down, I won’t ever get up
I’m your little duck
Why did you never give a fuck?
Now I can
the pop direction
You're 'bout to find out right now, tell me what ya reckon?
Twenty twenty's here, you won't believe what's 'bout to happen
That album
By the type of motherfuckers who ain't scared of shit
And if you playing this album, and I'm no longer here
And sometime far away from when I recorded
Brown paper bag (yo khaled I'm so focused homie I can see clearly now you all ready know what it is)
Thank god for those days, thank god for those
Verse 1
-------
Some of the busiest rhymes ever made by man
Are goin' into this mic, written by this hand
Are comin' out of this mouth, made by this
a penthouse, forget all my problems
The things I regret now, be gone by the mornin'
My life is startin', I'm ready as I ever been
Pencilin' my schedule that I
falling down
I'm a diamond in the rough - Hoping I get found
Puffing Inspirado I been Smoking by the pound
And now it's N to the izzo - v to the izzay
Verse 1
-------
Some of the busiest rhymes ever made by man
Are goin' into this mic, written by this hand
Are comin' out of this mouth, made by this
chains I could spot biters for acres
Now be gracious, these minstools turn a bully's psycho civil
By dissolving the candy coated image down to the pixels
Verse 1
-------
Some of the busiest rhymes ever made by man
Are goin' into this mic, written by this hand
Are comin' out of this mouth, made by this
into pocket chains (woo)
All you new rappers don't be talkin' 'bout shit except doin' drugs
Wonder how you got a name (damn)
Sippin' lean, takin' E,
shits, at like forty-seven cops
Call me Doc D, get on my dick, you carbon copy
I just illegally downloaded the Kid Cudi album (great scott)
And got
wonder who I was again (again)
Driving foreign's back to back now (back now)
All blue hundreds weigh my pants down (pants down)
All my trappers should relate
I
apathetic mind traps
I wonder what the fuck you'd think if you could see me now
A soulless shell of that person you left when you went out
But still I'm
rap death and the album is comin' stand by
Jason Chucky Freddy couldn't kill it its hard so eh! try
And then if I'm not the king of the mixtapes then
jump suit got wings Homie now you fly
And Ya album was picture Prefect cause that's how You Ride
Put ya granny on a jet show Her the sky
A Nigga
wonder why they snap on
Mixtapes and not on albums
Most substance on one track that
Niggas got on albums
Don't need to cover for them to
Know who
mill, everybody know my name now
thinkin' back, it's a motherfuckin' shame how
Biggie got killed and Pac got murked
Sometimes I gotta step in the church,
with my possessions
Stirring pots and flipping lids
But these things I own I guess
Must substitute for what's not there
Now why I was not warned of this
Picture myself a old man a OG
Some niggas will conversate with lairs
All day time pass
(Nah lemme start somethin' else)
Soul on ice death threats given by
Okwunda on the beat
Yeah
Yeah (W-W-Wonder)
The devils chain 'round my neck has been broken
Soul stolen, but got it back thanks to Heavens Father
Now
easier and relieve stress
But come on now you could figure the rest
Money is hardly really ever a stress reliever
Because my life sure as hell ain't ever
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