Lyrics:
On Labor Day morning the traffic uncoils
Into bike racks and brake lights and asphalt and oil It crawls off towards autumn and by afternoon
person you would pass it to can't
Gеt a lob up out me
Hardbodied, ten toеs, bitch
I'm solid to the grave
I fucked up the trust with my
Girl but promised
Stranded inside a madhouse, baby.
Down in old Pine Grove.
Been up for days
in a drunkards haze,
just lit up by this stove.
We got the band in
Niggas turned on in the game
Leavin' 'em dead
I play by the rules, niggas is playin' chess
With the same mindset
I'm livin' with no regrets
I found out
Ameritrade
Nigga I'm havin' sauce, havin' marinade
I was spilling oil in my lemonade
I'm too thankful I ain't meet an early grave
Nigga havin' M's I might
a sexy video on
I'm gonna massage some oil into my body, baby
'cause I'm gonna get tight with you, yeah
I wanna take you to McDonald's with a candle
Oh a man must be mad or want money bad to venture catching whales
For he may be drowned when the whale turns around or his head be smashed by the tail
destroyed and attacked
Mommy wants you to give
Her lubricant oil back
The dirt farm hands kick
Dust skinned soiled black
Radical packs of wolves wrapped in
bad
but open your eyes and take a look at the map
the whole damn things red, blood red, and looking county by county
well its basically a wash, red
Lincoln
Then Mr. B.S. beat his gums
And testified to me,
"Joe's washing the short,
Changing da oil
He'll be here by three."
So the little hand hits
Now the king told the boogie men
You have to let that raga drop
The oil down the desert way
Has been shakin' to the top
The sheik he drove his
Lincoln
Then Mr. B.S. beat his gums
And testified to me,
"Joe's washing the short,
Changing da oil
He'll be here by three."
So the little hand hits
Let's see what he has to say
You, uh, what's-his name, right? Well
Yeah, ten rolls yeah (Yeah, yeah, yeah)
I mean, do you have something I can
I can
Capturing Hip Hop culture
In striking stills that synchronously come alive
Animated life that breathes oil and ink
The heart of the street
Beat through
minus ten
I ain't gon' stop writing until I dry the pen
When I begin to get on the mic, you'll see what type of vibe that I'm in
See, I'ma keep doing this
on the beach X 4
I saw you on the beach… I knew right then your were the one.
Instrumental beat rhythm:
First Verse:
You look so royal when you're pouring
Strap yourself spite of, PLR in
The piece, biggest lair, yo
Pimp slapped by the hand of god
The anthem of dismantlers
My mantra creeps inside your ears,
and try to run
Watch how I sleep you, dawg, while I'm talking to you
I am legend, last man, lab doom
Weapon x and the forest is a student
She woke him
face
Jamie Foxx can keep the waist down
I'm tryna put my dick where she wine taste
Take her to the vineyard put dick in her liver
If she Olive Oil
insulted by the proposal
It's like they forget I'm the mogul
The trainers are in JD Australia
And that means we're goin' global
I don't wanna be
cum. Its edge play,
be careful, fuck around and murder you by mistake and
leave you dead in the bed slayed.
Not my intentions. You'll lick prick til your
relay you the facts
The foreign policy just delayed the collapse
The US policy motivated by Fed
To justify the suppression
Of independent care
up into the government's war
As if the land of money and oil funny how ain't none of it's yours
I can't sleep yo I'm paranoid, it's code orange
It's
right, I don't talk right, I don't eat right, I don't sleep right, what I do right? who said you right? hell with do right, id rather do life. and by
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