Lyrics:
the boys flip the candy painted low
The city where they blow big killa and stayed blowed
Hustling ass D-boys got the game sewed
Where they sip that paint
Hustling in the bars
Tips, Jukes, and Winning Hands
Locked tight in mason jars
Bit by bit
Little by little
Mile after mile
Ridin' in Granny's Car
Bit by bit
Let's party and blow it
Spend it Spend it Spend it
I got money to burn
When you dead you can't spend it
Written by: Marlon Franklyn Davis
the Lord I run miles like Davis
These new shoes call em peace of the gospel
It's a tough race but I die if I got to
And you know it's only Jesus that I'm
in Like Billie Holiday
Malcom X, Marian Anderson, Betty Davis
Toussaint Louverture, Mandela, Martha Jean-Claude
Toni Morisson, Miles Davis, Ornette
and that's a fat chance
You see black faces in my rap pages
Larry Davis, Angela Davis or Ossie Davis
Yeah, welcome to the show, it's Talib Kweli, so
never get to shine, shine
Hey, Vinyl Blue in Green, Miles Davis CDs
I compose my sixteens
Before eighty-eight keys
The first time I did drugs
It was
the bed
Switched to Miles Davis, dream about trumpet
I take Aretha over Dylan
D'angelo over the Billy Joel
Lil uzi vert over the Beatles
First rap song I
morning on some Illinois road
I fell asleep at the wheel
But was quickly wakened up by a 'Ma Bell' telephone pole
And a bunch of Grant Wood faces
buy you pay every week
'Cause they'd just as soon blow you away
And you turn out the light that you read by
You pray that you're one of the few
When
But at a half a mile from heaven you dropped me back
Down to this cold, cold world
Took me riding in your rocket, gave me a star
But at a half a mile
But at a half a mile from heaven you dropped me back
Down to this cold, cold world
Took me riding in your rocket, gave me a star
But at a half a mile
tonight
This time I'm lettin' the homefires burn out and I'm leavin' when I blow out his light
Cause I still remember good waterin' holes and the places
morning on some Illinois road
I fell asleep at the wheel
But was quickly wakened up by a 'Ma Bell' telephone pole
And a bunch of Grant Wood faces
a list of terrible people in no particular order
Katie Hopkins
Alex Jones
Miles Davis
Lawrence Fox
Donald Trump
Every US President
Joe Manchin
Ted Cruz
Damn Davis
Drop that bitch
Shut the fuck up
Shut the fuck up
Play me some of that $uicide Pimpin'
Juicemane, A$AP Rocky, $UICIDEBOY$
Y'all know
I’ma love it until I break her back
(Break that back)
And I’ma blow her a kiss and a smile
(There’s that smile)
With my luck I’ma miss by a mile
(Miss by
Doing drugs all she do is getting lit
Casio got it bussed down
Now the haters all on my dick
Who the fuck is you
Who the fuck is you
Blow this money fast
& The Gang
Miles Davis, Cabb Calloway
Gil Scott Heron, Danny Hathaway
The ladies Lyn Collins, Betty Wright
Marva Whitney, Ann Alford, Vicki Anderson
Aretha
and Miles Davis
May they both
Rest in Peace
As Guru so
Eloquently Stated
Hip-Hop is real
And jazz is real too
So what better way
To convey
The realness
and Miles Davis
May they both Rest in Peace
As Guru stated so eloquently, Hip-Hop is real and jazz is real
So what better way to convey the realness that has
to say it
Watch me create it
Born with the blues, jazzy like Miles Davis
Old soul ache like elbows on Aunt Mavis
Throw us back, way back like touch tones
Uh, okay, we're going to do a new song then
It's about a man named, uh
Morgan Davis, Morgan
Morgan left the house to get some Cream of Wheat
away
And the petals start to fade by the picket fences
Just another shade of miles and miles to go
And the tears forever flow
And the petals
_(profile).jpg/243px-Illinois_Jacquet,_New_York,_N.Y.,_ca._May_1947_(William_P._Gottlieb_12581)_(profile).jpg "Illinois Jacquet & His Big Band")
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