Lyrics:
a note right by the phone
Don't leave a message 'cause this ain't no home
And she cried
She cried so long her tears ran dry
Then she laughed
hands
Next level: disobedience!
Whatever happened to common sense?
It was killed by indifference
We fell asleep in democracy
And woke up to fascist
Nursery
School to be a head doctor, oh!
I’m that message in the bottle that
You read but didn’t follow
Now yo head is filled with hollows
And you layin’ in
go)
(You Crazy)
I'm in here with my crew yelling fuck these other niggas
I did search around the city, can’t nobody do it bigger
Poppin' bottles errday
dupe?
Names change like slang, still be aiming to shoot
Call it pop-pop poacher and note the .45 will rise up
Message worth it's weight in gold, he
stall
Stutter, softer than melted butter
There's no other word, go ask your mother
Hard solid as your city
Born in Brooklyn, can tell by the way that
came back like it's prophecy
Roberto Cavalli drenched in Burberry trenches
Immaculate in Prada boots
Tom Ford florals, double breasted suits
Send
Like a message in a bottle I drift
Another hundred miles, til' bliss
To anyone who catches my wish
It seems the storms are finally calming
I may not
sorrow?
Pain in a bottle with desire
Look up to Rallo, I wanna own the hood I put on
Put on like cologne, I wanna show you you don't need a loan (don't
(tryin' to live)
Can't get a break down here (can't seem to get a break down here)
Another black man killed by police again
Another child with a father
answer machine
Sorry I'm not by the phone
But ya know that I'm gone call ya when I get home
Leave a message after that tone (Leave a message after that
the world as exotic, patience
Find me a friendship where I can see clearly
Intentions and actions they align neatly
Bring me a bottle, a message from
violence or scorn.
barbed-wire fences bought by taxpayers in Britain.
a message in a bottle
that doesn't need to be written.
i'm offered fresh Afghan naan.
all hustlas
Pushin' the product, connected by the narcotics
Hella melodic when NATAS drop it, I got it
30,000 feet out in the air, I parachute on ya
parents, who you gonna follow
When your role models send you to the store for a cold bottle
And you come back and em in cuffs that be enough to hate police
10-20-71, the day I come out
Two days later, I'm runnin' my mouth
Mom's put a bottle to my grill
I look her in the face and I say chill
So she puts
nigga, break your bigger brother out"
I got a message for the warden
I'm comin' for ya ass, as fast as Flash Gordon
We get surrounded in the mess
a Chevy wit a fo'-fifty-fo' in the hood
That bitch got 125 on the dash (She like it gangsta cause...)
(I'm the biggest boss that you seen thus far)
(I'm
to know if you run the streets
Come in peace or leave in pieces
Even Jesus was killed by the polices
They crucified him now they inject us with juice
up.
Police comin', set no sail.
Come with me boy, you're sleepin' in jail.
You're goin' down.
I think your good time is up.
I said get the bottle
putting so much trust in your religion
They couldn't conquer without division
Boy you still black, I don't care if you Catholic or Christian
Police'll still
The police killed the samurai
The police killed the samurai
Shot him with a pistol and then
Put one through both his eyes
Trying to send a message
That's
Thot, your dad can't drip like this
Bitch, I trap out like Griselda, hollows, I mail 'em
Mojo with my celly, police walk in, I won't tell 'em
Talkin'
Shooting stars so good at disappearing
I send this message using my last bottle
So by the time you read this, know that I'm in trouble
I'm in trouble
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