Lyrics:
in an ally
4 bricks two guns I'm runnin' to my parents
Man we got that white girl
And wigga talk bout uh price to make it right for you
And if
the sun turn gold
In the morning love is healing
Warm the frost deep in my bones
The hunter sits on a pure white stallion
A hawk in flight bow in his
touch this million dollar robe yea
I thought I told you bitches I'm the goal yea
Hit em with the pinky hit the door yea
White bitches in crowd do my
told (Told)
I'm supposed to be locked up and dead, cold (Cold)
In the mind of an old (He cold) white man, the black man soul
Felt like I was born
the city don't feel like home no more
She sold her soul some years ago
Stuck in the Gold Rush
Diggin', scrapin', score.
Stuck in the Gold Rush
All we want
We sing a song of praise
To you our hearts we raise
My sins His blood atone
And redeemed this dry bone
We'll all have clean white robes
And walk
a bunch of gold balls, but we ain't the Lakers
Hey bitches, stay lickin' my necklace
And I ain't even put the dumb bitch in the guest list
That's what you
a bunch of gold balls, but we ain't the Lakers
Hey bitches, stay lickin' my necklace
And I ain't even put the dumb bitch in the guest list
That's what you
of life
where it's pearly gates of white perplex me
I enter its doors of glittering ivory
and was met by streets of gleeming gold
that seem to lead into
Where they at?
If you want to go and take a ride with me
We 3-wheeling in the fo' with the gold D's
Oh why do I live this way? (Hey, must be
into pesos
Now we all sipping in Mexico
Smokin that gas like Texaco
Stick by me you’ll be next to blow
Stick by me you’ll be next to blow
I just put my
my bathtub and gold Roman sandals
I rock a robe and I'll be rockin' all across the globe
But rewind, I had a stockin' on, ready to rob your gold
I'm
the Four
My city gon' blow
Let me, let me in
Or else we shuttin' it down
We came to make it rain
Poppin' bottles, droppin' liquors around
If them niggas
schools for this
Cause I'm drawn by the vision and close my hand into a fist
Raised in the crime with nothing to eat
So my natural instincts to kill
gold
East side
Bleak
Mad
City gold
East side
Bleak
Mad
City
Mad
City gold
Fuck living in bliss
And fuck ignorance
Fuck relevance
Fuck piecemeal
a connection to Christmas music and it began in early childhood spurred on by three things. My culture, my family, and my city. I'm a born and raised new Yorker.
the edge
To do some shit like that?
The green and gold
I done filled my lungs up with so much of this crack smoke
My neck's bloated, my TEC's loaded,
and night
Sometimes... In my two cities
White day... No ground rules
Sun hits our faces, out the door, off to school
No second thoughts no
Rene
SKY PUP:
It's strange this evening
So go, girl
Make the five mark city of gold
Oh, baby it's hot cold meathook
Rigging in my nose
made Forbes every year, lil' baby
I don't like no long nails on my lady
Is it true they can't prevail? That I'm shady?
White toes in her heels, she
We can take over the world, he said
And it's plenty gold in my country, he said
A 1000 men make a company, he said
But I gotta put into your butt
Illmatic
Then I saw Kanye's hanging from his gold necklace
Then Ye gave me mine, that show you my work ethic
Mom had that hooptie that she ran in the dirt
starkest thoughts
No language known to man
portrays my naked sentiment
A bolt of blazing gold,
swallowed by the waveless sea
The ocean-winds set sail,
in
a white flag and Elizabeth O'Farrell's feet
My Ireland is Savita needing agency
The Magdalene Laundries
My Ireland is hysterical and in denial of being
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