Lyrics:
on the back
I'm like the gun at the race, son you only get one shot
My album is the finish line, here's where your run stops
'bout to go fishin with a clip
shops
Screamin they love the album,
and then get near ten thousand when the next one drop
Haters try to deny the funk, but affected by the bong
They
hommies from Akwa-Ibom to A-town
Wassup?
All my A-town boys how una dey?
My ABJ paddies where the money dey
Err'day I'm steady working, gat no holiday
But
Yeah yeah, what up my niggas
You know who it is?
It's your nigga, Styles
Holiday, the Ghost Pinero
I go by many names
I'm just happy to be doin'
(a-one, two, a-one, two)
Break of dawn, break of dawn (a-one, two, a-one, two)
I was born in the Boogie Down catscan
Where my building fell down
for the freak show
Uh, shorty on a molly, um prolly
I'm ridin' with my niggas and we finna catch a body
I check into the telly, you just meet me in
Hey, I'm on the way
Yeah, I got some shit to say
First of all, gotta thank God
He let me see another day
Safe to say I'm on my way
Every days a holiday
say
That's for certain
Get ourselves a room at the Holiday Inn
Make my sugar plums
Dance on your chin
Tapping ass is my career
And I'm here on business
trust these bitches)
Music, money that's my only love (man I cannot trust these bitches)
Came up in this bish did it by myself
They all on my dick I
walks and mountain hikes
Sharing favourite books and music
Family holidays, Fish and chips
You financed our first album
Shallow Permanence:
of my mind trying to shine like the sun in the sky
It's just because I want attention when I'm sliding by
Medium heavy guess I'm ready to rotate like
Holiday Season
I talk to God like I'm 'bout to die (die)
I think of Malik and I start to cry (leak)
They paid no attention, was walking by
"Better Than Ever"
It could be better than my first album on the song "Better Than Ever"
Like I was fucking trash
But I could be better than my older self
the Dodge
'Cause the baseheads keep breakin' in the garage
I keep saggin' in my 'Lac with my butt out, I strutt out
Look at my two front tires - you know I
the girlfriends fall in line from my spin off
That's game bitch aint shit
Nudies and some J six
Where I'm from it's cold
And niggas get at you like
the purpose of doing all this talking
Summer '88, or was it '89
Or was it winter-time, ah, nevermind
I'm in my room, boomin' drawin' LL Cool J album covers
Yeah yeah, what up my niggas
You know who it is?
It's your nigga, Styles
Holiday, the Ghost Pinero
I go by many names
I'm just happy to be
Influenced by J. Cole and Lil Dicky[01:22.63]And as I progress on my journey, I tend to be a lil' picky[01:25.77]Yearning for something that some would call
kissing to some j blige (Uh huh)
If you with it we can kick it by the fireside (Yeah)
Getting busy to some whitney sipping mai tais (Ugh)
Hit the city
chew so here's a piece of my mind//
You a lame for the juice and you shook/
You Walk the walk for industry plays, turning more Fruit by the foot//
Hot
with days wey i they h wey i go faint
If you wanna hear the story loyal boy go play the tape
My album on the way as you they fell back in the days
We
the J's love how I'll pass out the meds
Fuck it, I know they be swinging the door
Raided my trap, we gone post by the store
Stuck in the hood, had to sleep
It's J go see Harry's own
His heartbeat pumps through my flesh and bone
Flippin' with Trae
Mobbin' down MLK
He's blue up with grey
On tint on southern
J's brand new lac
I do it how I do it tryin to let the money stack
I'm good out cheer cuz the hood got my back
I'm from a city where they keep
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