Lyrics:
on soul train
The niggaz that's a problem is minimal margin
The Colonel, Captain, Lieutenant, General Sergeant
Black, one man army move in on your squadron
at the profit margin
I got a gyal up in Chelsea, you know
But why everyone there when you blow?
The feds tryna get help with the roads
Me nuh know, me nuh
the King and You're the center of it all
There is a name
Reaching past the margins
Calling sons and daughters back to Him
And as He saves
We can hear
margins bigger than Fran Tarkenton
All these cars, all these stars, all around me (super high)
Put your eye to the sky, that's where you'll find me
One-stop shop, nigga, just to sell them shoes
The profit margins lookin' higher than them airplane views
Y'all getting fucked in your deals, and they share
and part sin
Winning about Noah's ark getting carp and the book is so colorful gotta listen to Darwin
Because you like a perfect margin, and that makes my
You gotta narrow the margin and keep up the pace
Gotta lay aside every weight and run the race that's before us
If we grow weary and faint,
I'll have to see my broker,
Find out what he can do,
'Cause I'm in the market for you.
There won't be any joker,
With margin I'm all
the margin
One what?
One love, one love, one love, one love
Fake thug, no love
You get the slug CB4 Gusto
Your luck low, I didn't know 'til I was
at my struggle, I question if you gon' keep me up
There's no delusion because you give me a freaky fuck
No confusion, the profit margins for me to stop
glow
See how she looked in her school year book
Her friends signed the margins all around
But would you stay in touch you know I miss you so much
I
get your loose leafs, think in the margin kid
never be too big for the littlest ship
Ripken, for clowns who don't think the Cal hit shit�
or how
got heart
Put my feet right on the margin
And I just might hit the bottom
Throw my hands out on the breeze and let it be
Baby, this is Russian roulette
bubonic plague on your rat face
Practice on the uttering till it lactates
Then begin the butterin' of the pancakes
Push it to the margin flood the garden
in the cleaners
Chicken head, give me some of your chicken fajitas
Yo I beg your pardon, I write my rhymes way past the margins
Squeeze the Charmin,
a notebook
That no one will ever read
So why am I still pretending I'm
Who they'd think I'd be?
I am in between the margins
These words are just me clothes
too much
I'm writing this in a notebook that
No one will ever read
So why am I still pretending I'm
Who they'd think I'd be?
I am in between the margins
agree,
And we all shout hurrah!
As he confirms what Fermat
Jotted down in that margin,
Which could've used some enlargin'.
Tap your feet,
Keepin'
I'll have to see my broker,
Find out what he can do,
'Cause I'm in the market for you.
There won't be any joker,
With margin I'm all
Embraced with a loving tender hold
I'd rather feel nothing than this
Wanted to stop feeling
Oh we've all had that wish
At the edges, at the margins
This
an ill intent so be intense
Some friends at the margin
Making summer streams harden
All these bulls shitting
Trying to milk me by the carton
But, uh,
two guys
Rum and coke
Hold the ice
I believe they're all the price
The cover charge of living large
In between the social margin
They be paying
Manager he'll hawk us
As along as we're uncouth
And we'll call it revolution
But we'll crank out Bubble Gum
'Cause there's the margin doom for travelers
a sound
A sound static flow
Commercial grey suit freight and margins
Lotions coffee cups
Fierce aisles of light and stations
It's a train again this forever
Discuss these margin Lyrics with the community:
Report Comment
We're doing our best to make sure our content is useful, accurate and safe.
If by any chance you spot an inappropriate comment while navigating through our website please use this form to let us know, and we'll take care of it shortly.
Attachment
You need to be logged in to favorite.
Log In