Lyrics:
a flame
A blue flame jumping off a gas stove
Somebody lit i was three years old
I felt fear, real fear
For the first time in my life but i
Remember it also
while my loved ones was fighting the continuous war back in the city
I was entering a new one
A war that was based on apartheid and discrimination
Made
a European watch
On a different time
I used to run around with a MAC-10
Back when I was 20 years old
That was back then (30)
30 clip in the 40, move yayo like
the strip
You just running your lips
I know you wish you had a shorter nose
I wish your mom had a miscarriage and
You was born in a toilet bowl
Or your dad
My flow was opium, we cock bottles and open them
The relevance
Stop by, tryna see a nigga
All I buy is these trees, king
100 ki's in them
Back in the days when I was young I'm not a kid anymore
But some days I sit and wish I was a kid again
Back in the days when I was young I'm not
Each lazy hour
What a good life
Lying laid back
Like an old railroad bum by the track
What a good life
Living outdoors
Lie in the grass and chew
grows in Pennsylvania
I know she's from Jersey
These are the slavery chords I was taught by my grandmother
The things she whispered in my ear
She taught
life's shitty, how I wish I was high[00:54.01]So I called up my homie, can you give me a ride[00:57.28]To Genesee Street, it's on the right-hand
grandfather was lying wounded in the leg. He’d been wounded by one of our own lads who’d mistaken him for a German when Grandfather had come hobbling out
all live in a Jar sim
That was made by him
And his four limbs
[Chorus]
Beasten, beasten, beasten, beasten, beasten, beasten
Oh yeah, did I mention,
halted for one immemorial moment
And it was in that oddly immeasurable instant that the dark and peerless power unfettered by those grim pseudo-words
to look up
Irving Berlin in the section
For sixteenth century literature
No! Fact is, friends
And I'm telling you in confidence 'cause
I know no one gonna
I was walking in New York City and I brushed up against the man in front of
me. I felt a cardboard placard on his back. And when we passed
Back in the days when I was young I'm not a kid anymore
But some days I sit and wish I was a kid again
Back in the days when I was young I'm not
and the shit that he didn't
When I was a young kid in Sunday school learning about forgiveness
I wish I could forgive you now that I've found things to be happy
Mister Charlie Lindbergh, he flew to old Berlin
Got 'im a big Iron Cross, and he flew right back again
To Washington, Washington
Misses Charlie
day I saw an old man pleading for a handful of coal;
His wife was dying of cold and he was penniless.
Maybe in the morning, as the politician sipped
Rewind the clip
Yeah, I'll start by taking back
It's Spring of '17
Sitting shotgun there in my car
You said celebrities are sad, no matter how big or small
some time
Thought I might go on by when your memory came flooding in and you closed that door
Wish I was a freight train, baby
Wish I was a diesel
Back in the days when I was young I'm not a kid anymore
But some days I sit and wish I was a kid again
Back in the days when I was young I'm not
the ratchet at
Coaches had ya back
You could've been in the NBA
Instead of Beasley house with ya
Name on an NDA
Anyway, I was gettin' paper back then
I was walking in New York City and I brushed
Up against the man in front of me
I felt a cardboard placard on his back
And when we passed
this big booty bitch right back from East Atlanta
I was posed to be on private jet, PJ don't mean pajamas
I was posing on IG I had the hoes correct my
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