Lyrics:
Roots!
Praise for the days when I couldn't get paid
In the fix on the mix in the damn projects
Cracks for the blacks but I couldn't sell that
Even
like taa-dow
Biggie Smalls the illest and how, frays raise your eyebrow
By now you figure, he talkin' 'bout that nigga
But your weak-ass assumptions,
like taa-dow
Biggie Smalls the illest and how, frays raise your eyebrow
By now you figure, he talkin' 'bout that nigga
But your weak-ass assumptions,
the hottest so the
Hottest I deserved the ball
It's that Cocaine Mafia connect
Juicy J, Project Pat, Montana, roger that
I'm a self made man, self made man
I'm
f**king tired of yall nigas
like the homeless in front your house I will sleep
in front your crib 7 days of the Week
When I spot you I'm a keep it real
jump
Never look back
7 days a week I got a monkey on my back
Life is passing by Time that you’ll never get back
Blackjack Never look back
7 days a week I got
through too much I don't do the lies yea
That's why im wise big check gotta put it on the side
Its about time
Im bout to go ape shit
Seven days in a week
Throw yo hands if you don't get nothing for free
I said throw yo hands up if you work seven days a week
Throw yo throw yo hands up if you don't ever
drugs no weak shit
Hit the plug every week yea
Thumb in it now she tweaking
Got to finish strong no weak ends
Yup
Met em by the poolside
Said her name Ava
the park about three, sometimes a little later
The last day of the week and they couldn't get any greater
They leaving the park and hittin' the South Park
your temple by tenfold
The pinnacle, profit while the prey upon the weak (weak)
Nothin' changin' but the days when all the infantry is sheep (yes)
Call a paramedic for the psychedelic
Parametric cause we parasailing on the beat
Celebrating seven days of the week, but niggas hating cause our
buying new drums for the canons
Show a price getting by cause he scamming
In the Projects shoot dice but they ran um
They gone slide out the Chrysler with
Six-foot, seven-foot, eight-foot bunch
Six-foot, seven-foot, eight-foot bunch
Ahem, excuse my charisma, vodka with a spritzer
Swagger down pat
on my feet, you ain't got heat to come face an elite
I got the heat I got the heat 24/7 all days of the week
I got the heat I got the heat, laugh in
with Dhall Pat
Suns blazing so I throw on my hater blockers
Now the biddies can't tell when I'm staring at their knockers
So don't huff don't sigh
be dust by this week
So do all you can while you can
While you breathe
Cause you don't really know when the end is in reach
The lessons they teach
Sloppy Joes and Burritos in a Bag.
Friday was Pizza Day, the best day of the week.
All the kids would line up super early just to eat.
Monday: Hot Dog
and the drank so in one day
Ain't enough i ain't feeling no ganja
I need all of this gone by tomorrow
And im already up cant snooze
Ain't no promise on seeing
the blue bills it match the denim
I got this dope ass fade and line up 'round the projects
By Triple H he got heroin hard and haircuts
Dog food (this shit
(this the king)
Ain't a nare notha' puttin' on like me (ok)
I can buy the bar out seven days out the week
We gettin' money
Uh huh, uh huh
Uh huh, uh
the bitch to EverGreen
throw em in da bayou
call my niggas
D and Blue
Project Pat y'all know what to do
creep through the streets
with them thangs
still a cold and freezing nighttime
For just a few weeks, maple syrup time.
We boil and boil and boil and boil it all day long,
Till ninety seven
From the start to the finish we've been winnin2x
Don't fall for them fireworks and lasers
Project Blue beam bull shit baked up by satan
How about
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