Lyrics:
for no groupie hoe
Ice on Johnny dang, flawless diamonds hitting this shit for to show
Gucci store, was bout to by some drip but I cash out on dope
Fuck
their winds across the mountains
A life that's never safe and dry
Rodeos and riding high
Ladies and their men get by
On six-guns and white
by his face, blast one by his eardrum
Piss run, you drop thinkin you shot
Screamin like a bitch, kicks to your face
Shots to the body that shake like
gon' tell you the half
Ya not see it
Cause they're really only after the cash
Ya not see it
But they wind up sellin they own ass
One album, two album
will not blow me Ha you already lost
Now give me my money aint tryin to be funny but if u have met me in person you already know that I am
I could be out
feel like you in the wind
So used to the losses, don't know what it is to win
Sometimes you gotta do it all over again, that's what it is
In my own world
Wind will blow and the sun will shine
On that hill where we used to climb
I look in your eyes and you'll be mine
Someday soon
I won't even make
having snow
Patiently waiting for the day that I blow
For all I know it could be tomorrow, who knows
Aye
Yeah
I'll love you like I've never, even loved
I stay with my rod nigga, I don't ride no waves though
Lately I been posted by the payroll
I been M.I.A, I just don't know what to say
I had left
[Prince Poetry]
As I step into the Thunderdome, with flows as the wind blows
Visualize the intros, releasing hypnotical gases
chemicals mixed, fixed, takin
that mouth when that shit come down to my bro
Or else we upping all them glocks and yeah we letting that shit blow
Did it all by myself, I ain't never
flooded with cash
Ima blow a few hundred
Get a house out in London
Then ima go put the rest in the stash
Yah
You all better remember the name
Trippy that
Yo, I bought that album man, it's wack man
I'm tellin you, I don't like it
I'ma be honest man
Honest?
I'm dead up, I'm serious
Serious?
I don't
noticed
That old Cadillac transformed to a Lotus
[Chorus]
When ya new album drop everybody ya friend
Niggas actin' like they down but I know they
that bitch got miles on her she's a ho
I mean that bitch can teach the wind how to blow
She's a pro groupie though
Zulu jocka binaca
The hood head
[Chorus]
All I know, get doe (keep gettin that doe)
Flip another O, get doe (keep gettin that doe)
Get it fast or slow, get doe (keep gettin that
Cause I play Quincy and inject you with some syanide
Catch somebody else, one by one, that oughta get'em
If not I'm forced to use another form
they won't
stop it
Though it's just my dad's mum and la mama de la mama'
Played your mum my album and she's like "T come on
by!"
And I'll come
everything that you got
Shoot your shot
VERSE 2
I'm fully strapped like Johnny cash in all back
Tucked in got the belt buckle & pearl snaps
cin't no question
know that I know the ancient flow KRS-One
Is the holder of a boulder yo, money folder yo
You want a fresh style let me show you slow
Your blow, I'm
change who you are
Ain't no law says you gotta take what you're givin'
I want to find a place where the nights are warm
And the wind don't blow so cold
call me up, you need it? yeah
You Never had no nigga fuck you like that and you feining yeah
Check me out nigga, I did 25k off like three albums by
and smoking that loud
Bag it all up and sell by the ounce,
Stack all the cash and then buy by the pound
Blow it all out we attracting a crowd
Hella bad bitches
superb's talking shit
Back to the future when Biff crashed in manure
Great Scott! Think you got the tie that binds- frayed knot
Working overtime to blow
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