Lyrics:
sort of chilly
Then I send a shorty from my block to the store for phillies
After being blessed by the herb's essence
I'm back to my rest, ten
and charbroil her on the bonfire
And bon voyage, bitch, I'm like Chef Boyar-dee in this bitch
Send a bomb to my mom's lawyer
I'm a problem for you, boy, you
I owe my dad, mom and sister my life man
Wasn't easy to be around me for a long time
God give hard paths to strong minds
Insha'Allah, it'll be all
head
You a bop u can’t come to my crib
Try to line me I put one in ya wig
I can’t go wipe ya nose like a kid
Life we chose this da way dat we live
That
of my own by five dollars
I just want to share these stories and never take time off it
You hate on imaginary people on Instagram why bother?
All this
You said soon you're consumed by the doom
That's the same line that Kid Cudi used
Your Honor, no cap, you caught me red handed
I still don't think
when you dead
And your friends
Never there on the spot
But they there by your moms
There, at your crib
Tell tales bout the kid
While you elevate to God
getting hard, Bruce Lee'd in school,
By other kids acting like the Klan Klux Kru
Pinay tita followed home from work
By a brother yelling at her Yo Bitch
bop
Yea they talkin' but they sound frail, I know the town well
It's Tom Gist, kid strong enough to drown whales
You got a clown smell, I'm not for
Rell and Mr. Two-Gun Un
And this goes out to those who choose to use disrespectful views on the kid that carry Rugers
The kid that be havin' jewelers
and they buried
Them bitches die in a hurry, still I ride, I'm never worried
Mr. Makaveli tell me to ride, and I'ma ride
Pick my enemies out the crowd,
Where's Mr. Voorhees, sir Freddy Krueger
Fuck Michael Myers, bitch on the bed begging me to do her
And that's how it goes, cuz my life is radical
was heaven at like, as a kid
It used to be the 'Preme hat in the green
The cheetah print on the tee
The dark wash in the jean
Soccer mom with
kids
I spray the led
And rip you apart like a Mr potato Head
I bought the Bentley GT, n it's tomato red
Cause I sling butter of the color
Of potato bread
kids
I spray the led
And rip you apart like a Mr potato Head
I bought the Bentley GT, n it's tomato red
Cause I sling butter of the color
Of potato bread
some place where you
Stupid-ass kids can show off
So I told my mom
I'm 'bout to blow, literal bomb
Not no metaphor, I feel like Osama
Bitch, I fell off,
(Mixx scratches "Yakety Yak")
Brother Marquis:
When you're told to do something by your mom and dad
Don't frown in their face or get mad
Because
the dream big
I was living by the side watching kids that are rich ridding bike ,shinning teeth but I never had shit
I got water in my eyes, reminiscing and I
Down down baby
Ate my kids at McDonald's
Down down Baby
Down down a rollercoaster
Sweet sweet baby I'll prolly let you go
Mr. fuck the city up bitch I
Motherfucker, little fried but like it's for nothing
I preach to you straight on a track because ya head gon bop (You'll bop!)
So finally now I got some shit that
down
Shit craze, 'cause I really started from the bottom
No bitch Drake, shooters in my hood is dummy rocking (Bop-boop)
Section eight, yeah my
thought gets muggy
We them easy street kids from Mr. Bryant's basement
Wishin' for the Apollo, tryin' to get dough
Now my time moves slow, ain't
on the block, end his life
And the kid's name was James ??? right, and that's my testimony
[Mr. Serv-On]
Now see in my life, it ain't never been what it's
the ticky ticky buzz the sun winks the sky
i fumble through my fuzz and buzz mr. i
tell him scoop the beats in the flying saucer kit
meet me
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