Lyrics:
patient
Get buried
Falling into
Your own grave
I'm spittin'
Like an automatic
Spraying lead
I'm going rabid
You getting hit by all this traffic
Bathed in
minute and lay you six feet under the next day
Listen to mama cause she'll never steer you wrong
In your hardest of times remember this song
By and by when
this song
Don't wanna write this song
Another glass of whiskey, by your picture in a frame
I'm playin' all the black keys and cryin' out your name
16 man squad
By the time knowledge was 120 we was just 5 deep
I went from Mecca to Albany a student and landed in medina as a teacher
I had this
the life
That I write In my songs
(That I write in my songs)
I'm tryna do right
Had to write out right from wrong
(Tryna find out what's wrong)
If you need
Lady
Come on
I can write about the wintertime
And how to make great wine
I can tell a tale of princes lost
And records produced by Micky Most
But I'll
on
I can write about the wintertime
And how to make great wine
I can tell a tale of princes lost
And records produced by Micky Most
But I'll probably
Although this is not always the case
The Chronicles of Prince Ivan
Preface
January 7, 2019
Why does a songwriter write music?
Why does a novelist write
stolen my heart
I don't know, won't you take my hand
Cause I've got a feeling
We could write letters
We could write letters
Once again
I sit here like
16 man squad
By the time knowledge was 120 we was just 5 deep
I went from Mecca to Albany a student and landed in medina as a teacher
I had this
16 man squad
By the time knowledge was 120 we was just 5 deep
I went from Mecca to Albany a student and landed in medina as a teacher
I had this
Fuckboy Season? Let's Go
Shit boutta get lit!
Ya bitches ain't slick!
And you know I keep my drip!
Fresher than Will been a Prince!
Doing this shit
you anymore, my love
I heard my voice so many times so I kinda hate it
Maybe I should never write again a song for anyone
But I don't know how to convey
your comprehension
When I write songs, I'm writing my expressions
When you write songs the real ones ask questions
Seems like you are only here
you speak
Posting everyday ain't gon get you chose
Paint yo flowers red but that won't make a rose
Ghost could write a song but they can't make a flow
Gotta write a new song
Gotta make a new beat
Gotta see it on through
And make it unique
Gotta make it make sense
Hard coming from me
Sounds open
bothers me
Maybe make a song
I got a blunt in my left hand, a pen in my right
Why do I second guess everything I write
I'm lost in my thoughts
But there
song
That we all heard before
Set a realistic goal that
We could work towards
I've been going through it
could write my wrongs
But all I ever do is write these songs
It's hitting me hard cough cough
At first we flying then I'm face first on the Boulevard
16 man squad
By the time knowledge was 120 we was just 5 deep
I went from Mecca to Albany a student and landed in medina as a teacher
I had this
the crown, bow down and give in
I'm the Prince of Rap, that's how we livin'
Setting milestones on the microphone
Empires are overthrown, and I ain't even
hoe
My whip big dream
Dripped lorenzo
See me ten things
By the window
Mark me new king
Word to prince tho
We gon tell em who we are
What we goin for
Don't care my world
Pay me rent hoe
My whip big dream
Dripped Lorenzo
See me ten things
By the window
Mark me, new king
Word to prince tho
We gon tell
Three Four
If everyone could write a song
A few cords, let's all sing along
Lets sing about the joys and the sorrows
We'll cover yesterday
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