Lyrics:
corvette
Lionel, Dave and the butcher made three
You got to meet me by the knuckles of the skinny bone tree
With the strings of a washburn
Stretched
from a red Corvette
Lionel, Dave and the butcher made three
Oh you got to meet me by the
Knuckles of the skinny bone tree
With the strings of a Washburn
Corvette
Lionel and Dave and the Butcher made three
Well, you got to meet me by the knuckles of the skinnybone tree
With the strings of a Washburn stretched
from a red Corvette
Lionel and Dave and the butcher made three
You got to meet me by the knuckles of the skinnybone tree
With the strings
right and a long stick with a string and a carrot, and it hangs over the mule's
nose, and it runs after it all day long. Some ...
Who is the man in this,
from a red Corvette
Lionel and Dave and the butcher made three
You got to meet me by the knuckles of the skinnybone tree
With the strings
from a red Corvette, tore out the buckets from a red Corvette
Lionel and Dave and the Butcher made three
you got to meet me by the knuckles
a red Corvette
Tore out the buckets from a red Corvette
Lionel and Dave and the Butcher made three
Well, you got to meet me by the knuckles
possibly could you be thinking?
But if it can't climb out, then
It must go in?
He used to be three-headed, he had cosmetic surgery
Yeah, I felt a string
through the mountains
And the valleys just a-pullin' them strings of mules
And the ropes and the chaps and the halters
And the saddles well these were
things out of iron, wood, and cement, shoeing horses and mules, repairing and making wagon wheels, processing foods, and making household products. He was
watched a movie
From hollywood
(repeat)
Little miss muffett on a squat by me
Took a turn around, I said: can y'all see?
The little strings on the giant
Land Rover
Rolex pon mi wirst, and all crisp pullover
Platinum chain wid ring with ice all over
And the Versace suit with all dem string yah (shh,
had it mastered by my teens
Started hands on, a nigga still pulling strings
Hotel suites, straight selling nigga's dreams
Motel 6 as I let the beeper
the hand of a brotha
Whenever he demanding the advancement of others//
In a land of lies and I been tryna find the truth
Think of String Theory while I’m
cierres tu puerta
Dale tu vida
Oooooooh, abre tu corazón.
Duet with Pete Orta
Written by George Cocchini, Hunter Davis and Chris Faulk
Spanish Version by
Mama!
Now you lads
Will you just shout Happy Christmas for us
For this tape, eh?
Happy Christmas?
Yeah go on one, two, three
Happy Christmas!
the kids killed by ARs in Parkland
Ask George Floyd, Breonna Taylor and Manuel Ellis
Ain’t nobody’s life matter to powers to that be
King stay king, are you
Blame it on the devil and my old six string
Made this life harder than it had to be
Married and divorced by the time I was twenty-three
Hooked
as a token
Always eat ass first thing in the morning
Ooo
Pill bottle pill bottle Pill bottle
Ooo
Saved by the bell
Skip every class in school
Never read a book
two test
Check testing one two
Mic check testing one two three four One two
Three four
One two three
One two three four
(What)
Mic check
This is a test
Diamonds on me hit like Floyd Mayweather
Don been through the worst but was taught to do better
Cop birds by the two watch em flock with no feathers
Yeah
(Come in)
Names that you know me by, praise to the holy high
Shit been a lonely ride, all I do is only try
Weed is my only high, magazine
guap with me
Oversize rocks chilling in my cool chain
Louis Vuitton, homie, down to the shoe string
Got money everywhere like Bruce Wayne
I got my arm,
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