Lyrics:
to shoot you with the 40
Yo, Thunn, I be right back, yeah
Hold it down G's while I'm gone get me songs
All over the streets
That's what you call awareness
I met you in a club in Atlanta, Georgia
Said me and my homeboy were coming out with an album
You looked at me like, "Yeah, nigga right"
But you
that makes ya mind craze
and you thinkin who's above you
but I get up, I don't stay down
I got lot of shit to climb, get with the time
You shit on me
get on this album
I can't be late man what you mean
I can't, I mean I turned the album in cas
What you really want me ta do
Naw call that nigga
Frankly, I'm disappointed, I'm appalled
And brother I am unbelievably hurt by the fact
That you have morphed into something to me, that's not real
in
(Ou, ouuu)
Kick down the door cuz'
They didn't want to let us in (Yeah)
I just checked the score; coach
You really need to sub me in
(Frank Zulu
tuberculosis
I'm Frank Mills in '05, fuck
You mean? I been cocky, nigga
My wrists sick, I'm talkin' tuberculosis
I might just, just pull up on Boulevard
Top down
Well, if I'm Frank Sinatra you're Audrey Hepburn
I like to sing and you like the movies
Life it's not a photograph, you gotta keep moving
Frames are
Yeah, yeah I'm out that Brooklyn, now I'm down in Tribeca
Right next to Deniro, but I'll be hood forever
I'm the new Sinatra, and since I made it
not permanent
Nothing is immediate
We're so confident in our accomplishments
Look at our decadence.
Gone, like Frank Sinatra, like Elvis and his mom,
on your own
Ain't nobody fuckin' with me, you can tell by the tone
Gotta lotta women waitin' by they phone all alone
But I'm here for ya
When I get
fucked up, woke up to a doctor
All I could think about, was that the cops took my weed and my choppers
They want me to sing, like Sinatra, I told
held my own weight
Took charge
Of my own fate
Ate off my own plate
Never cared what a hater say
Frank Sinatra
Yea I did it my way
For all my blessings
I
to see what it means
The locals love the jukebox nostalgia
Old Vera Lynn to Frank Sinatra
Give me some old school, tit for tat
There's something about
somebody to love
Can you put me on to that new?
A throwback would go down too
Maybe this could be one of our tunes
When it plays
We can say that this is our
Park did quick to spark kids who start shit
See me, only me
The Under-boss of this holocaust
Truly yours, Frank White
We got the real live shit
I could never forget
Ugh, king of the mileage bruh I'm a monster
Rap phenomenal, flew to the moon like Frank Sinatra
This that ride for the ones who
Rebel, renegade, must stay paid
Not by financial aid, but a raid of hits
Causing me to take long trips
I'm the original teacher of this type of style
like a Gemini
Inside, Lives The Bridge to the other side
Follow me down the rabbit hole, where I had to walk on faith
Just like the yellow brick,
Rebel, renegade, must stay paid
Not by financial aid, but the break of hits
Causing me to take long trips
I'm the original, teacher of this type
no news!
The thing that seems to justify
All of our fears
Is that all of this went down
In the last five years but tell me
What really happened to J
When you approach me keep it cordial with me
Cause daddy was a demon in that all black big body
Its up for any reason can't let sucker shit get by me
Album Mode on reboot
We’re on our way to the moon
I’ve been stunnin on these nigga cause they are lazy to get a job
They hatin on me cause I haven’t gave
a millionaire where the
Fuck is the bread at?! (Where the money?)
Come on niggas come up to me and say
You should have signed to 50
Instead of signin with Jay
.jpg/228px-Frank_Sinatra_(1957_studio_portrait_close-up).jpg "Frank Sinatra")
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