Lyrics:
He's free as the breeze
He's always at ease
He lives in the jungle and hangs by his knees
As he swings through the trees
With a trapeze in his
pro
You could tell by my flow
Pull up in a wrathe, then dip off in a ghost
Fuck on his friends
Give me dividends
He love the way that I be doing my
And she know my heart cold like ice (That's facts)
Call your main bitch over, I might
Bet you she gon’ be in love by the night
Fuck that, saying she in love
Yeah
This shit crazy as hell, bro, fvck!
Jesadi on this fvcker
Ughh!
Coming from a rough background, my life has been subtle, ugh
shit was like
He's free as the breeze
He's always at ease
He lives in the jungle and hangs by his knees
As he swings through the trees
With a trapeze in his
still a slave
Swing low sweet chariot
Just take me away
Free me from all the struggles that I seen in a day
Free me from all of the lies they be sending
I start off everyday
By telling myself that i'm okay
Whether or not if I could see that my health's going astray
I had a
Taking a moment way outta
Baby is you gon' ride is you gon' die for me
Who else gon' run these bands up by my side with me
I love the way lil mama buss-it back for me
Top down
Jew
I'm too nice like a motherfucker that fell in love with a boo
Twice as in double as fuckable as he was
And dude tries to be subtle and get
Crunch goes the leaves at my feet on an afternoon
Walking in order to try to get rid of my gloom
I notice the swings on the playground are still,
pollinated by the "Be"
Pac called it the rose that rose from concrete
How do you define divine that finds street?
"Hip bop," the color of my leaves
Not
Throw your hands up in the air and swing your hips back and forth
Bend it over bust it down and make that nigga throw a Porsche
Make that nigga throw
to niggas, perfect your own speech
Shit is copper, it ain't worth the mic stands
Used by backup singers in Atlantic City bands
Niggas look on, and get
cause these rhymes they lack
We are it, I am him, here poach the lions den
I strangle hero's by they capes, if they in the way of my papes
Straight
Yo
Bedrock drop the sound like a needle to vinyl
Stopping by the Song and Story to spit is considered vital
Lyrics sicken them with phlegm, infection
you treat me/Keeps my mind rigid & strong/
You on my arm/
Finding subtle ways of keeping me calm/
No matter the storm/
Let's flip to me/
I'm all I
on (come on)
I'm talking to you, come on the Working Hour
This is the working hour
We are paid by those who
Learn by our mistakes
This is the working hour
scraps that sat
Spread on the bed of my mind
Binded with puzzle pieces and subtle speeches
Made by the men in grey suit's
With blurred faces and a debut
heavy hitter on the mainstream
You want to look trendy in the Bentley
Be a star band, never act friendly
You want to have big fame
Let me explain what
some big booty heifer gettin' by
On that booty, instead of doin' duty
Aspire to be higher, I admire so I fire
Cause it's flyer to be hungry than phat
on the field, not a puppy in the pack
She got brown skin, back stacked
Don't be surprised when she ask you where the cash at
Without that, she ain't havin' it
I'm
black by design, black boy, black be the true color of my eye
Black skin, black everything, I'm black mighty black boy fly
Black Thought be my favorite
Don't you know, he was the king of saxophones
Yes indeed he was;
Talkin' 'bout the guy that made it sound so good
Some people knew him by the Bean
like Nola soldiers
Swing harder than Sammy Sosa
I'm dolo Asolo on boots
08 Collection shoes
The classic Penny's set the mood
The Hardaway is what we
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