Lyrics:
a nice day!
Defecting Russian dance into Hockney prints
Exclusive to Bloomingdale's, gift-wrapped in red
From the land of blue rinse
They boggle
is
Her specialty, after all hands come up
One by one "Oh my god, Rihmeek, "
Nicki groans exaggeratedly, invoking Meek's
Middle name for effect "Every
a nice day!
Defecting russian dance into Hockney prints
Exclusive to Bloomingdales, gift-wrapped in red
From the land of blue rinse
They boggle
a nice day!
Defecting russian dance into Hockney prints
Exclusive to Bloomingdales, gift-wrapped in red
From the land of blue rinse
They boggle
It's raining, it's pouring
And those free birds are soaring
And this casket's so boring
But I guess I dug my own grave
Hello, my name is Joe –
my own
You addicted said I fuck you the best
Queen queen and my face is your throne
Red wine, that’s for bed time and you spread your legs real slow
Freddy Mercury wear his jumpsuit
Everybody say it's money but
When I wear my jumpsuit
Everybody say it's funny?
(Do I have the right to be retarded?)
and my jumpsuit its on nike
You cant cuff me up lil mama no you cant indict me
Feenin I got her feenin she off a bean and
Khapo in the field running
commando gear -- black robes and a red sash
around his head -- is standing by a plan on the wall. He is addressing an
audience of about eight MASKED
plan
Made us in his own image, molded us like dolls
And orchestrated the great fall
Omniscient, call him by his name, beg and he'll listen
Adam, Eve,
my lungs go the drugs like the red chief
Red leaf lettuce blood money
On the bench seat
12 courses laid up on the long table
Aged wine got me spinning
roam
I have some questions and some feelings some might not condone
But this my own space, own spot, time zone
So on this rollercoaster should I throw my
remembered the way that I left it
I never expected a seperate dimension
Survival's a lesson
That's why I'm profession
The bible I'm living by is my weapon
I
where no compare in my
Own zone this lair is home grown, it's rare but it's on strong,
Beware, long gone if you dare got the wrong tone,
Now, we are
War, all of my dreamers died
Clap back, watch the nonbeliever cry
Wholesale retail by the hotel
Post mail season ended, oh well
Don't tell me what
hear what my speakers bumping
Thunder clap's your final warning
I'm psycho my jumpsuit's orange
Stab this beat right in the thorax
Don't speak for me
apparatus, more wins than Cassius
Cease roll the hashes in the pocket with the nine
Roll up the whole dime, as my seats recline
I want a presidential Roley,
the dames
Gimme the range and the wain
My niggas up the pawn drop top jag walls
Blindfold you when you step in the car
That's the superstar status apparatus
on fire
Wreckshop done came, and took the whole world by surprise
Independent label, counting money across the table
Twenty hoes in my stable, TV's in
to the Skai like Zuri (Facts)
When I pop out bitches be eyeing
On my own time just like the Mayans
Fire siren OG what I'm lighting
Cus my shit louder than
reading and still see
The muck on the sky of the ceiling
Please raise the flag rosy red carpet envy english used here is
Messenger is nervous it's no
pass me my robe, fill my bath up with water
Right Voice (Reed, Yule)
Jumpsuit and pig meat and making his fortune, while making them happy with
a pastor
So I see myself and I know, my own lord and master
When your ass was born it was all on the own and
When it's time to die you'll be all alone so
glowing on it's own
And the load is even lighter
When I feel the undertone, yeah
My jumpsuit won't survive
My friends will take it slow
I used to be
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