Lyrics:
Woods says truth, never ever told no lies
Gyal wanna chase me i don’t really get it why
0 fucks bout the queen cuh the god blessed i
Skies of blue, baby
to tell you
I've never had an exit strategy
You just internalise impermanence
When you lived in seven houses by age 14
And I was watching you on stage, baby
honor of Steve Jobs' life
Please let's all buy this song on iTunes
It's the way Steve would have wanted it
You're my boy, Blue!
I wan't a fat boy between my legs
Feel that motor vibrate 'till we stop for beer and eggs
Feel that wind in our hair
Roaring down route 66
Me
city of New Orleans, we call him this
Georgia (that's right) Georgia (Bush)
Now, this song is dedicated to the one with the suit
Thick white skin
From when my name was signed by the defendant
To selling out shows, I'm betting
I'ma be the next out to city, homie
And it's all Bens when I'm
Packin' my suitcase wit' banners and signs
Blue and red lights like the Fourth of July
Roaches on fire rise into the sky
Don't care bout your color
Stackin' up these blue pills ain't no time to chill
Gotta hustle every day it's the blue dollar bill
In the blue city lights where dreams come real
Versace on her swimsuit
Back pocket got horseshoes
Make me bring that Porsche through
Gator boy no superstar
Jumping out a moving car
Swamp city avatar
been ready)
So you can take it where you want
I'm kamikaze wanna try me?
Suggest you don't
Ooh, I told you, boy, I'm riding the donk
Ooh, I got shooters
distorting, bring it down a lil' bit
Okay, now we working with it
The boy Face on the bass line, Face - Mob!
Welcome to New York City, it's ya boy Young Hov'
You're banging the rocks at the old city docks
Poor boy poor boy poor boy poor boy
You were chained to a girl that would kill you with a look
It's
father said through his wine blue teeth
Lighten up boy, drink with me
But my gut spoke up and it said flee
And so I fled down to the sea
I chased a girl
I move to the big city, to make a little better money, then get back home.
Now here I am living in a little sub-division, surrounded by steel
a mask, yeah don’t be stupid
Bright blue clouds flying right on by me
Hearing this song makes it so vi-bey
Upright freakin’ bass it’s awe poppin’
S.L.C.
of white car smell like blue cheese
That boy get salad beef bout movements
BM dubs on them big things looking foolish
Shawty sitting low big things popping
pimpin'
Giuseppe Zanotti, I cop by the 50, yeah
I work the backstreets in all of the cities
Yes, I paid for her thighs, lips, ass, and her titties, yeah
distorting, bring it down a lil' bit
Okay, now we working with it
The boy Face on the bass line, Face - Mob!
Welcome to New York City, it's ya boy Young Hov'
it but I ain’t know that was your wife
Cuz if I did I prolly woulda hit it twice
White Dave
Rollie lookin’ like the ice age
Goofy in my DM like babe
snoop crown on the vic
Crown on my wrist, crown on my bitch
And a couple crowns on my crew
Keeping pounds of the blue
Ivory in it, tsunami in it when I be
though them days they thought yo boy was crazy
Used to love the library in those books I would bury
I Remember
I loved the month of December
Windy city
real all the time, so my squad keen, bing
Dave, it's me Sinatra and my boy Dean
The way we
(Winning) I can't believe there isn't a Sheen
And pregnant
Fighters Colour of the Shape There Is Nothing Left to Lose
Who's Next by The Who
The Cat Empire Two Shoes
Circe Survive Blue Sky Noise
From Under the Cork
When Jelly Roll demanded his name
Hail, King Porter
Well, the man responded "Porter King"
(Dig 'I'm)
By order
Well, Jelly lef' th' city, but he wrote
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