Lyrics:
Tune in
Radio station made by yours truly
Thank you so much
Just fuckin' around man
Emotionally overwhelmed
My heart it has holes to heal
Have you
Yeah I’m the best but you still won’t get the best of me
Wake up in the morning like How?
Put my knee to the ground, God can you hear me now? wow
I know
flipped up the script, edit a lil bit, now i'm winning like rocky
And know that you never will stop me
Tell all those groupies they thotties
They dont
Bang, Bang, Bang!
Rule #1 of life! Don't Fuck with those who write songs!
113 is on fire, you lit the match and then left
I'm still watching it
it off Now, baby, gonna take it off
Girl, my mind ain't right, right What else can you expect? You the baddest thing in my sight
Sean Paul, just give
with me
Like you know luh bro come
In my dreams
It keep shaking me
Long as I get you
To hold me
Love our secrecy
You know I need you right now
Why do
when you makin' the shot
It's still a miss to me (Yeah)
I'm CT fletcher, mixed with a little Mr t
(Uh, huh) you on The Shade Room just hoping
That you
Don't let them days gon' pass you by
Don't let them days gon' pass you by
Don't let them days gon' pass you by
Cause them days go by in the blink
burning off, layered thick,
a cargo that I haul, wounds and loves unresolved.
I wake up with the sun in my eyes.
The present moment tries
but now I'm back
get to
I'll never be a groupie but we're talking who's who
In this zoo I see a lot of cat food
Rats delegating with pigs
I've been relevant seven years
the inside of me
See, I swore I would never forget the summers that made me
But I so adore the decor of you sat waiting in the corner by the pub door while
shit?
Load the clips and we coming
Barrel I hang with
I walked in she hugged me
That mean when I'm not in
The room they discuss me
A nigga don't work
and always leave with the wet meat
Because of my technique, I'm the one you let speak
I collect crops and props like spinach
I'm vintage, your single
still in it
Getting rest that I be missing, but fuck it I'm on a mission
Flight delayed like 30 minutes, now that's the shit that I hate
Now it's eight
In this race, I'm lappin' Fake cheeks, I'm clappin
Black tint, keep it low-key Fitted low, still a OG
John Paul on my neck bone Got these hoes all
everyday we haffi sing
Live up you passion because we know it must live
Who a try test you with negative get a sting
Them kick up a ground and still bow
we stuck
And we got no food, what the RADIO EDIT
Starvin'
Goin' crazy
MC Cribaldo lookin' tasty
And I got a knife...
Uh oh shouldn't mess with me
I'm
since the day I was born
And I'll be a star til the day that I'm gone
Ha ha ha ha ha
You can agree with uh-huh or disagree with uh-uh
Whatever, niggas
a island boy
But you ain't walk out the house
With no sneakers on
Hawaiian made for the drink
Seven Eleven only thing I eat
Please do not judge
By the way
You're too old to kid, too soft to rock
I already did what most love to shout
Seven years on wax and I still ain't sold out
And there ain't no doubt in
You're too old to kid, too soft to rock
I already did what most love to shout
Seven years on wax and I still ain't sold out
And there ain't no doubt in
anthem
Baby this one for my fallen Soldiers
Came from the eight oh eight
Girl I thought I told you
Ooo woo ooo
Its P-U-N-A, when we in CA
If I'm in HI, you
anthem
Baby this one for my fallen Soldiers
Came from the eight oh eight
Girl I thought I told you
Ooo woo ooo
Its P-U-N-A, when we in CA
If I'm in HI, you
On the radio
Whoa oh oh
On the radio
If you think that love isn't found on the radio
Well tune right in you made find the love you lost
'Cause now I'm sitting
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