Lyrics:
I got a house you can come to only on Fridays
I got this old chick I gotta refrain come to my space
She kinda good with a textbook so I don't gotta
Along
Writing another chapter
In the Archive
There Isn't A Sideline
And when
Tomorrow doesn't
Come for us
Oh No!
Written by Phil Arnold.
Turned Barney's ancestors into carbon back pressure
In the dummies guide to becoming smarter crash testers
I'm not easily blarneyed by artisan crayon
my bed, I'm a smart guy
I ain't fucking with you niggas like apartheid (nah)
Hits on my list, check my archive
I'm something so immaculate
Instead
no credit, I'm a cash kinda guy
With my stash kinda high, still the girlies pass by
You know why? Cause I'm a Raider of this Lost Art
Played a big
Digital
Rockin' the latest in, every day comin' at niggas
Rockin' the latest in Ben Stillaways
Fuck that, the next big thing, lay this as Hollywood
a god damn
How the fuck can they stand to be around you
God help the poor ears that must surround you
Cos your voice is like daggers in my jugular
love the dark side with horror
Got archives I'm sure
You got hard lives
Missourah is our side
And it's hella depressin' hella a stressin'
The history of touches
Every single archive
Compressed into a second
All with us here as I wake you up
fuck my car
But bitch who the fuck you think you are, by far
They ain't tripping on me, they wanna fuck my car
Ay C keep yo' eyes open for
be competin' for my spot (I ain't doin' no competin')
I know my worth, is you gon' be with me or not?
Archive, achieve, please take back me
I've
And you got your daddy and you know who your daddy is don't you?
Fuck that
If you want to play you answer me who's your daddy when I ask you
Who is your
'Sace, 'sace
'Knock one, 'knock one
Mustard on the beat, ho
Shirt, shirt by Versace
Bitch you better fuck sumn
Ho, Hoes wanna knock one
Bitch you
day by day
Life would be ecstasy, you and me endlessly . . .
Groovin' . . . on a Sunday afternoon
Really couldn't get away too soon
Ah-ha-ha [3
I smoke the dodie
Got shooters I ain't totin
Fuck that shit you smoking
Say you got a problem with me
Better be totin
Fuck that shirt you got on
Fuck
All I knew was pain
What don't kill you makes you stronger
But my Jesus saves
By His stripes we rise and conquer
Have a little faith
If you wait
The history of touches
Every single archive
Compressed into a second
All with us here as I wake you up
about everybody
Except for the person in the mirror that's staring
You talk shit like you Keisha then cry like a Karen
Fuck awards that you won, money
What you mean you ain't nasty
Why the fuck you came
Why the fuck you came
Why, why the fuck you came
What you mean you ain't nasty
Why the fuck
You know what? the team is clever
Fuck niggas up get drunk pull out a bigger pump
Sell crack, all day rep, rock the meanest leather
Flip you all day
get around
Downtown bums get clowned
If you find me face down I don't give a fuck
Cause me and the homes get buck
We gon' party like we don't give
you think ‘bout me when you fuck your new man now
I know you think ‘bout me and if I fuck hoes on cam now (I don’t)
So many love songs in my archive (I
hoes they know wassup
Throwin ones we dont give no fuck
Make that ass jump like double dutch
Do it so good gon double up
Got me stuck on you like
apology
And leader, you just made a mockery
(you made a what?)
I just make examples, fuck a leading protege
(fuck em' all)
Don't make friends with friends
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