Lyrics:
, the St. Louis blues, I got the blues, oh
St., St. Louis woman won't you come on back to me
Come on back, go down, go down, uh, go down, go down
Oh babe,
treat 'em like a video and edit they life
This is a threat, when I talk you listen to death
And if I run out of money then my wrist is a bet
of death, we can not save ourselves.
To breathe is not enough.
Yes sir, I Will.
When you woke this morning you looked so rocky-eyed,
Blue and white
on back
Won't you please come home to me
Oh, St Louis woman won't you please come home
Blues, blues, blues
I got the blues, I got the blues, I got
could go get lost
Lost down some old back road
Lost in a song on the radio
Lost in your deep blue eyes
I don't care if we spend all night
Lost by
If Young Metro don't trust you I'mma shoot you
Last night took an L, but tonight I bounce back
Wake up every morning, by the night, I count
Street when
I hit the booth
A motivational speaker when I speak the truth
Come down to Pensacola if you need some proof
I could mess your smile up
Like
output, MC Frontalot wants more
If you deign to hit me back do not neglect the underscore
Hey I've got a thought, we should microblog a song
It's
the millions?
Tell me what they mad fo'
Come around the hood
See us sitting there looking good
Tell me what they mad fo' 'cause
You be on the radio
Sounding like
brought to you by adrenaline and good rap
Black Pendleton ball cap
(West, west, west)
We don't share the same synonym fall back
(West, west, west)
Been
blues alive.
(Tell everybody now, Van).
Never, never, come outta these blues alive.
(No, you won't).
If I live to be a hundred.
(That's Van Morrison)
you the right slang, yeah
So just read up who own the stations that your favorite shows come on
Radio stations your favorite songs come on
The truth
I can give it to ya baby,
If ya work it just right maybe you can get the gravy
Damn, Katy Perry was right
These Cali girls need to come to the South
Don't stop keep it goin' now come on
This is a request Mr. Radio Man
Just one desire from a hip-hop fan
Hey DJ (you're on the line girl)
Hey DJ
bitch
Come out y'all boys in blue
Gimme a fair one and I swear son
I won't ne'er run cuz ain't nann one of us
Scared one bit
Cuz if you had to put that
blues alive.
(Tell everybody now, Van).
Never, never, come outta these blues alive.
(No, you won't).
If I live to be a hundred.
(That's Van Morrison)
cinco. Unos dos and trios them fingers my lingo. Aye. My recipe is unorthodox. Pay me for game I got more in stock. I forgot all my edits for radio I’m in
Ooo who did this beat
I like this
This nice
This here's for the radio edit
We just got an X Rating
Imma gone and wet it
Yeah
Bass Dheep
Ha Ha Ha
Fuck
rider)
If I find myself a good one
I just might not come back at all (CC rider)
Jenny, Jenny, Jenny
Won't you come along with me?
Jenny, Jenny, whoo,
blues alive.
(Tell everybody now, Van).
Never, never, come outta these blues alive.
(No, you won't).
If I live to be a hundred.
(That's Van Morrison)
edit
Stick up kids be tryna live paid
You get your crib sprayed with twenty-seven bullets in your rib cage
Get the gauge, cock it back, empty them
you never be
My niggas, they trappin' with felonies
I live what I rap no edit
These niggas, they livin' on credit
If it's bout' money then you know I
get off the hook boy
When it comes to fornite, Your at the bottom of the list
Every bullet shot you missed, Mate you are getting badly dissed
You
wine
Stomach hurts increases the verse
Makes the words mean their curse
Who are you
Nothing but blue
Reverb shouts to the ocean view
Nothing comes back
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