Lyrics:
she could always cop a feel
Them niggas ain't cotton picking but they stuck inside that field
I hope Tay don't go bananas
Fucked up tryna get an appeal
Take you back to a cotton field
In the heart of Louisiana
Little boy about nine years old
Sings a song in the heat of the day
Mama cried when her
chased through the fields with the dogs on my heels
By the law, now I know how the roadrunner feels
Went from Negro Spirituals to Hip-hop Quotables cuz
ten in the cotton fields
Playing horseshoe with the coloured kids
I tried to kiss her, she grabbed a baseball bat
I was waiting on June, I hope she
put your luggage on we
You ain't keep the same energy for the du Pont's and Carnegie's
We was in your cotton fields, now we sippin' on these, on me
poles Mountaineers just won by field goals
Makin' them city folks pay the toll This land was paid for by cotton and coal
Way back there in them hills
Man you hell of a pussy for
The shit you did last night
I could tell you nervous right now by
How you moving your hands right
Yeah please don't fuck
If I could stick my hand in my heart
Spill it all over the stage
Would it satisfy you
Would it slide on by you
Would you think the boy is strange
(Yeah, what can i say... This just life as we know it, from here)
Fresh off of his porch wit a brand new field report
Them boys done came up in
If I could stick my hand in my heart
Spill it all over the stage
Would it satisfy you
Would it slide on by you
Would you think the boy is strange
Build it up bar by bar, Young
Just tryna enjoy my sex on the beach
As a beautiful Jazmin flower garnishes my drink
Grace sits next to me, sipping
motherfucker
Your great grandfather tied a ball
And chain to my balls
And bounced me through a cotton field
While I lived in an unflushable toilet bowl
And now
Boss Dog Player
Villain in the field
Little brother is a Slayer
I kill it if I can yuh
Give me your hand now
We taking a trip
Under the moon, fire by
of national security, making anti-muck
out of spread-out style. the irrational reproduction
of these impossible motherfuckers is spurred on by
you and me
First with your hands and then with your mouth.
A downpour of sweat, damp cotton clouds.
I was a fool, you were my friend. We made it happen.
a shade darker
But we made our own America on this cotton field
Till we got a black millionaire for every Emmett Till
I'm representin', I'm representin',
slappin' this song, they say I'm wrong
'Cause I be poppin' it at these hoes, fo' tears when I'm off patron
Sucker repellent cologne I put on, when I leave my
Swift
Wrote her own songs
I couldn't believe it till I read it
That's when I knew I was sexist
Are you gonna take the deal?
Know I love the cotton field
song gets sung
He wants to hang
So he gets hung
He's chasing father figures
A real son of a gun
I don't cotton to the coffin nails
Caught up
music
No excuses
I feel marvelous by the way
Look uh, first off, I'm poppin' nigga, fuck all y'all
Y'all lucky I don't let this thing touch all
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