Lyrics:
Whitney Houston was really popular then and my parents loved asking me to sing along with her songs on the radio. Especially on road trips in my parents'
People, it's time for the Ice crush
So listen to my words I bring much
Sense, as I commence, my lyrics intense
Your telephoto, break out your big
of communication and
I knew I could sing from being
In tune with the radio
I would listen to whatever my
Mom played in the car
The big divas: Whitney, Mariah, Celine
It was difficult to navigate the world as a homeless teenager. My father was right. It was hard. And the world was tough. I think about this time in
like back sass
My nigga gon get that siggy
I'm in Houston like I'm Whitney
Niggas in the city wit me
Yo let me say it
They know I be steady I rocking
Boy
pretty
And it's, and it's Summertime in my City (summer in my city)
She dancing like Whitney (dancing like Whitney)
And we ain't worried bout nothing
If
Houston like Whitney
All my boys with me
If shit's getting gritty
I'm not like 6ix9ine if I'm caught then I'm guilty
It's nifty for kitty
The girls
you all like Bobby Brown and Whitney Houston's marriage
One big joke
It's your complex that got your carryin glocks and tecs
It's your complex that
shoulders
I'm thinkin' I could brush it off and nobody notice
Keep raisin' my kids, Whitney, Jeffry, and Jordan
Keep coppin' new whips, Bentleys, Benzes,
kill?
That ain't none of my business, though
But I'm the type of motherfucker make it his business, so
Open the book and turn that page
It reads
Aye they gone judge me by my past not my future
I advise you not to try me
On my own who right beside me
Pistol on my waistline
I be solo when im
getting ready to leave
When somebody grabbed old Jim by the sleeve
And this good looking girl was asking my buddy to dance
I said Jim don't do it
getting ready to leave
When somebody grabbed old Jim by the sleeve
And this good looking girl was asking my buddy to dance
I said Jim don't do it
tell me that we flossin'
Off in G4s, just, yeah, send reinforcements
Got crazy divas in my ish
And my car strapped like it's
Baby seaters in the whip
I
more because
I love the smell
Of my own farts
And I love creating
And I love trying
To get better
And then
When it's kind of good
It gives me that
bout it we seen him he froze up
I just been on the road fucking my dough up
I had to t' up I had to go up when I'm Houston I'm tryna po up
When I'm in
I fronted you the bow, now let me see where all my money at
Nigga try me in this bitch, put thirty in his trucker hat
Got SBA's in Houston, Servin'
I grabbed her by the hair it came off in my hand
And that beautiful girl was just a beautiful man
And old Jim just got sick right there on the floor
it's nifty
Haters fuckin' snarl but none bit me
If n when they come and try to get me
I'll be in Houston with Whitney
Wait...bro....who's Whitney?
Who -
drown all these haters, rest in peace to Whitney Houston
Cars, money, girls and the clothes
Aw man, you sold your soul
Naw man, mad people was frontin'
Aw
on my tongue
Wait for it to go numb
Me and Bossman we can never get stung
Any funny business put the lead to his lung
Can't school me about Whitney
Bobby Brown lockjaw, Whitney Houston in the ghost
Coogie and Cartier causalities of the fame
Your bitch MCM she even tagging my name
How you feeling
right by you
You a lame to me and it's plain to see
Ya own people won't even stand by you
Trap Time
You a lame, a nigga might try you
Bought 1 truck when
drown all these haters, rest in peace to Whitney Houston
Cars, money, girls and the clothes
Aw man, you sold your soul
Naw man, mad people was frontin'
Aw
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