Lyrics:
Girl sitting right down here
Where it's not so crowded
He sees you looking but he's not doing anything about it
Baby you're looking
In the wrong
stood there watching
And I was hypnotized
By the rhythm of your body
And the music in your eyes
And I was lost inside your world with you
Hey Mr
on the verge of going crazy and your heart's in pain
No one can hear though you're screaming so loud
You feel all alone in a faceless crowd
Isn't it strange how
then one day she can't take it no more
And decide to leave
Yeah, I woke up in the middle of the night
And I noticed my girl wasn't by my side
tu area
Causando desmadre, Ponte Trucha
[Verse One: Mr. Shadow and Lil' Rob]
As I enter I'm gonna representer Mayhem Click
So Let The Mayhem Begin
R.I.P to my lil' nigga Snupe
Yeah, we the realest niggas in this shit
Pulling live out of Philly
Young nigga love popping bad bitches
told you I gave you my heart (I gave you my heart)
Baby, you had broke my heart, you got me sittin' in the dark (sitting in the dark )
I got Lil m4
Rewind the clip
Yeah, I'll start by taking back
It's Spring of '17
Sitting shotgun there in my car
You said celebrities are sad, no matter how big or small
what Simon said
Spewing all type of shit
I'm sinning
Taken more deep breaths than I've given
Yeah I'm busy now
I'll get with you in a minute
It's Mr
I can't be your only remedy
Tryna save you is gonna kill me
So write it down, put it in a song
Hope you pour it out
We'd all feel less alone
'Stead
we grown
I met her on first base standin' all alone
We went to second base and now she in my zone
Then we told Mr. Third Base we gon'
I told you
mad brain, Mr. Rosenberg
Will the real MicGrady stand up, stand up
I see myself in all of y'all, it's tough, it's tough (Which one are you)
Just a bunch
Uh, dear Mr. President
Whats happenin'?
I'm writin' you because, shit is still real fucked up in my neighborhood
Pretty much the same way, right
Uh dear Mr. President what's happenin'? I'm writin' you because
Shit is still real fucked up in my neighborhood
Pretty much the same way, right
So what the fuck gotta say
Fuck Mr. Clynch coming' straight from the playground
Lil whore got it bad cause I'm brown
And not the other color so Chase
that's Mr. Stand-On-Business
Real killer, boy you know I step on shit in every season
And all my niggas, they be shootin', they shoot it off they meter
the sun
And baby, we gon' shine
Even when it's dark out
She gon' ride
Put my hand up in yours and baby, take your time
She my blonde lil' baby
And she don't
. One-You're-Gonna-Want-On-A-Saturday-Night
When you're lonely, lying in the dark
I'm the number that you know by broken heart
No, I ain't Mr. Right, I'm Mr. Right-Now
The one all
soul away, all alone in a cab
But that was you sitting in that driver's seat
You never left, I was just running on the creep(creep creep)
In conviction,
Legs sprain in a ditch
I know that you're fake
I know that you're not okay
I know you want me by your side
I already told you to rest in peace
I have
your living wrong
Its usually fuckem all but sometimes it makes me long
So hey Mr. mr can you tell me I’m all good
I’m impulsive and rarely do just
sitting by myself in a dark as room
I hate when the silence hits
We fight you keep throwing fits
Never thought my life would be like this
Now shit making so
Mr America
I'm just an immigrant Nigger
Living a life in the city
Tryna get by with my pennies
Survival is a must
A job is a plus
If they hiring us
And Mr. Mr. Scarface went up the block again
(All I have in this world all I have in this world
All I have all I have all I have in this world)
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