Lyrics:
on a track while I run slow
Two top tens a gold disc aint bad for a kid from the blown bits
Or you might get stabbed in the boat quick
By familiar flows
you ain't smoking no more weed in here, man
Chill man
Bobby Steels
Somebody go to the store, man, fuck that shit
Sup kid?
Get baking soda
Yo
you ain't smoking no more weed in here, man
Chill man
Bobby Steels
Somebody go to the store, man, fuck that shit
Sup kid?
Get baking soda
Yo
flip it to a turkey
Y.g. Ya heard me on the block servin'
Everybody says that my momma don't deserve me
Go get the word out, I gotta bird house
With
Or probably with Roney
I go by Trill Rill cause he
Be up in the morning
See, that's that penitentiary shit and he
Been out for a minute but I'm up!
Birdman keep
never gonna stop how we gotta live
But I'm a rapper out of New Jersey
College football ain't have a jersey
I wanna trust you cuz you seem worthy
If
the kids got is us, Grind Time rap game
Read an old magazine, check out a new dress
I be havin' conversations with Cornel West
Killer Mike don't give a damn
mind though
Side note
Where the fuck did my mind go
I lost it
Caution living under the bosses
Often they're really corpses with hidden forces
Dark when
black, heavens-to-Betsy, time to get deuce
I take a bite outta crime, wash it down with some juice
I'm not the new kids, but I'm knockin blocks off, sonny
in the game doing it like me
I’m surrounded by history
A legend in the making
K-Rino said homie that it’s
Mine for the taking
Can’t mess with
New kid on the block but my stance's hot
Pluto missing in their system since my last drop
Constellation got me dazing cuz I hit rock
Pushin cushion
where i sleep, now give me my key
[Verse 8: N.O.R.E.]
New York get the blood money, dirty cash still sweet
We will blackwall street by the swapmeet with
the veins
Street smart, nigga, I could be a tutor mane
My shooters aim at your
Motherfucking pupil, mane, bang
Talk stupid, it's your block
We gon' be
for survival this is how I go insane abstract
C major playing with pianos since a teenager into the middle I split this track be curious
I unlock my
everybody knows)
This go out to the young thugs, the have-nots (you know)
Little bad motherfuckers from the block (that's right)
Them niggas that's
hitman I want you dead ya crew dead
If I go in my bag like you did blllllllat!
I'll air this bitch out and
That's on my two kids
Truth is, this not gon' go
nap's
I bleach for a week cuz I'm waiting on payday
Bang
They know what it is when we hop out whips
Got gang
Trying to leave man's dead whole block still
friends. Beer a brother.
Soul orphaned, crying out, “Dear mother!”
Stalked by this witch, Missfortune.
Turns up unexpected. Turns my whole world rotten.
track is rated M my g
That's for melinated.
No hoe in them No holding em
Rap is the new podium
My main focus is economics
I Build a nation study Marcus
what y'all
Say what!
To the D.J's scratch, you've met your match
'Cause were coming out fresh with a brand new batch
So taking you off into the galaxy
what y'all
Say what!
To the D.J's scratch, you've met your match
'Cause were coming out fresh with a brand new batch
So taking you off into the galaxy
buying crack with
Her two young kids
From out the two one fifth
Where they do dump clips for pigmentation
Whichever way the shoe done fit's
Take another
thick (?)
Shit sticks in your mind
Make a nigga wanna go out and fight crime
I write rhymes as an answer to they gang size
If they wanna jack your car
raging and heated and on the way to go beat his kid?
On the track get spanked like he just did
(Detroit) I can't never leave this bitch
Sick of bein'
_Cover_Art.png/220px-Jessie_J_-_Bang_Bang_(featuring_Ariana_Grande_&_Nicki_Minaj)_Cover_Art.png "Suga Bang Bang")
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