Lyrics:
said it by mistake
My t-shirts make more money than your mixtape
I tell a boy Boy Better
Know it’s money making season
I book a flight to New York for no
to do
Is call me and let love rush in
(all you gotta do is call me boy, I got you)
If you really need me (yeah:.)
Baby just reach out and touch me
A little more about myself if you don't mind
This is my vision, you know what I'm saying?
Check me out now
I have millenniums of material and rivers
and all the niggas you claim to
Came were trained by the weak
Double up ya power
Gotta compile it to fuck with me (Ah)
Made it clear like a squeegee
"I'm gonna fall, break my neck"
"Oh get on by man, I'm gonna get out your way, I'm in the street"
"I'm tryin' to walk here, y'all runnin' these damn
the kennel wheels
Mother fucker wanna take my style
'Cause niggaz out here know I'm only fuckin' with the bonnet grills
And the haters wanna see me fall
The table was lit with candles
We sat juxtaposed and stood out the windows
To gaze at the stars
I said let's make a wish on that reddish one
She was like
time little Layzie let 'em know now.
Take it to the streets and let the pump, pump go pow!
Take my style, let me show you how I go wild.
Now you playin'
stand-by whores
And we ain't saying much, man, that's that lovely noise
Carvin' out my head the space to think, man, that's that lovely boy
I stashed some
Cuz I need me that bag and I need me them keys
Young trey big boy now he AP
Used to wanna cop the rollie I was only sixteen
now every day we
Beverly and took her out to Sweet Waters
"Boy what a looker" he thought, "Let me court her"
He musta been a playa cause she popped out three daughters
thought
JK: In fairness
There was context to it and we
Took it out of context
And we had a couple of little kids reenact it
Which I didn’t think would be
remain poor, so wait pause incase your face falls foul to the product of fowl
We like to cage more
Don't be a chicken
See me I'm feasably different
even
Know cause They wearing uniform every day Riding down Tara walking up Flint
Stop by the Sunoco get me some chips
Step in your backyard might take
and sexy red balloons and ennui
And aloof to me and
Why can't you be, a little more of a mystery
Why can't you be
The part of me that's missing
But the old man strongly clung to the wall
Because he was afraid to get out and to fall.
So the spirit touched his heart with its hand.
It took him by
fine freaks that's gon' ride for me
Ain't nothing more important than the mula (the mula)
Ain't nothing more important than the mula (the mula)
to breathe
So the dinner table had one less mouth to feed
Everyone I know is just housing trees, out for me
Don't indulge, I reside where the gravel be
me and you girl its gone be our little secret
Tell that boy you're bout to go out with your home girl
Then come to me and I can treat you like my
of the Looms
Now I'm tryna figure out, is you from Grape Street, Crip?
Or just another fruit in this room?
It's crucial, you choose, I'm sure you don't want me
like that in a theater before! how 'bout you, rhonda?
Rhonda:
You're a worm, harry. drop dead. god, you're disgusting! don't touch me! yuck! what is
it up in a little black folder
FBI wanna rub my shoulder
It's over before it gets any colder
So I gotta say it's over (Uh, huh)
Me and my crew, we're
I'd not a pair of bridges nor a shirt to my name
I couldn't go to school or out of doors to play
And all the other little boys passed our way
Son
I can't be your only remedy
Tryna save you is gonna kill me
So write it down, put it in a song
Hope you pour it out
We'd all feel less alone
'Stead
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