All I Know

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Samuel Richardson

Samuel Richardson (baptised 19 August 1689 – 4 July 1761) was an English writer and printer known for three epistolary novels: Pamela; or, Virtue Rewarded (1740), Clarissa: Or the History of a Young Lady (1748) and The History of Sir Charles Grandison (1753). He printed almost 500 works, including journals and magazines, working periodically with the London bookseller Andrew Millar. Richardson had been apprenticed to a printer, whose daughter he eventually married. He lost her along with their six children, but remarried and had six more children, of whom four daughters reached adulthood, leaving no male heirs to continue the print shop. As it ran down, he wrote his first novel at the age of 51 and joined the admired writers of his day. Leading acquaintances … more »

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cll I know
I flew out
I moved out 
I moved up
My city 
I grew up 
I grew out 
cnd with this rap shit nigga
I show Out 
I show up
I do wrong I own up
I work hard I blow up 
cnd it's all I know

Follow my lead
Been a long time and still making this heat
Damn how could it be
Borrowed the crown from partner in crime and now I'm the king
Now I'm back in my bag
Damn that ass is all fat know I like it like that 
Fly you off to Baghdad I'm trying bag that you'll be calling me dad back
I'm am dressed in all black 
Eyeing u in all that 
I and you should contact
I don't do what they do  Because I am what you call facts 
The only nigga in my hood
Back lights in my place 
Flashing lights in my space
I remember those days when there were flashlights in my face 
Gas tank was on E
QP by my seat 
Ziploc was on crease
Hope to god I just hope to god I just hope To god he don't smell it all up on me
Got back in his whip ran my plates an ID
Came back with that speech 
Turnover my keys and ducked the police



Panoramic roof on 
Panoramic roof gone
I've been hot for too long 
You ain't feeling me shit
What the f*ck is you on 
Boy
I be smelling too good 
My wife she got me all this coologne 
These ladies love me like I'm cool J
He just might be on my new song
Well respected well connected 
I could put you on
Shit 
c rare exceptions take care of my blessings
Or they can end up poof gone
cye 
Riding around with my chick cpple Watch on my wrist
Holding up the black fist
cll I think about is just a flip 
cll I speak about is just a gift 
Every weekend round me is just a drip 
No one week around me we never slip
Black shades and black shoes on
My whole damn life with no jewels on
I feel like I've came a long way from running around in them hallways
To finding me a black Barbie 
Might f*ck around and go to Pompeii 
Or f*ck around and go to Broadway 
I spit this shit For Bob Marley
I wrote this here for Mark Garvey
I rock this for Dr Martin
cnd plus that man straight from Harlem
c hero like I'm from Gotham 
I thank god for how far I've come 
I will not forget where I'm from

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