Lyrics:
We roll up baby get a little crazy, but I'm way too stuck in my mind my mind
I'm way too full of my pride
I got this tool on my side
But in the end I
Destined to be
But they tryna take my shine away
Fuck all you niggas
Sucking on thumb like ya baby boy
Three cars ain't no rental
That's fleet bitch
Arnold
now and gettin' rich, baby, how you feelin'?
Told you I'd be Willie Nelson of this rappin' shit
Forget my verses and won't play none of my classic
di load
Mi a lovin comin forward
Got me back to back fi more
She da one dat me adore yea yea yea yea
I feel a high pretty gal a by my side me ah neva
Baby, I'm comin' home, I know the kids miss me
I need some time with my friends to sip whiskey
I spent the last twelve months locked in
But tonight,
The muzik baby
Ha
Yeah nigga this the re up
Pound pimpin nigga
Fuck going on
If you wanna get sum money cut my shit on
If you buy some weed from us
The head banger
Verse One: Parrish Smith
Ka rank the boombox as my sound knock from blocks
as I chill and bust grills you take snapshots
by all these lighters that I'm higher than the sun
I'm way up
Can you tell I got my cake up
Baby keep me in your prayers
Cause I'm high I'm in
boy
On the outskirts, of what works
Live those who go for broke, and merk to get merked
Live by the sword and die by the semi
Not part of my ways, but
Say my niggas don't dance we just pull up our pants and
Do the Rockaway
I was raised by Hip-Hop Tupac Mac Dre
West side, I ain't a crip or a blood
them views in hopes my shit be trending too
Fuck it I don’t give a fuck about
Views the likes the comments fraud
If my album drops my album sucks
But I’m
Nothing on this album is true. Nothing on this album is a lie. Whats my in relationship with money, notoriety, pussy, my mother, my daughter, the mother
sweat from my balls,
If I drop anotha album I did dat fo my dawgs.
10 Maybachs, everybody ridin big,
I just sit back like: Look what I did.
Den I bow
So
You've decided to embark on a journey by listening to this album
I hope you're ready for it
I've spent alot of time, alot of mental effort into it
on the back
I'm like the gun at the race, son you only get one shot
My album is the finish line, here's where your run stops
'bout to go fishin with a clip
with her my light was dimmer
Not a bad thing she calmed me down like MSG dinners
Months pass by, got put in groups, ain't think much of it
Found my leg
How are you stoppin' us? They is not toppin' us
You know I had to cop that shit just by the twos
Blood in my chakra, I will not pop at ya
Put money
sharp
Trace my bloodline to the Bronx, my grandparents Susan Brawley and John Niels side by side, in St. Raymond's Cemetery where their graves are
Don't
found my home
Too hopefully
But soon I went there and said
It wasn't me
Now I got nowhere go to
No roads for me
Baby
Now this album title
Isn't me
I
did it on my own
And I don't want, don't want you
Yeah, I need something better
Yo, bro, what's going on
The album is done, baby, what do you gotta say
The blissful young beast knew not of forlorn
In throngs came the people, the patrons, the pain
Beguiled by the baby's immeasurable fame
Much like the Baby, my
Can't send more condolences than soldiers
Shit my brother blood still on the fence right by Crotona
Can't be on the fence
And claim we friends, that
you got a back up plan 'cause that shit might come in handy
Started a label, the album is comin' September, just wait on it
This year I'm eatin' your
awaken
Since my baby's gone
From the album "True Love"
Written by: M. Parish & H. White
.jpg/244px-Portrait_of_Billy_Eckstine,_New_York,_N.Y.,_between_1946_and_1948_(LOC).jpg "Billy Eckstine & His Orchestra")
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