Lyrics:
You and You and You
Written and Composed by James Gardin
[Verse: James Gardin]
I wrote this while sitting in terminal b
The words just flowed like
aware of them forces
I think I’m about to give away a pair these Jordans
I’m covered by eagles cant fly with you seagulls
I copped me a Benz but pulled up
You're killing me Smalls
You need to fall back
Masculinity called
He wants his balls back
I heard some of them rhymes you said were all that
Well, I
to James at the end
24 reasons I have to tell my fans
About the hard feelings
That I've ever had
Let me break the silence
And face the math
So I can
When it rains it pours down
Used to wanna be king said the reign is on now
King me like james straight out of high school
To the big games but you
the door, like James Morrison
You ain't important
You don't believe me?
I'll reassure you, paint you a portrait
Most of you dudes see the jewels and became
Need euros Ginobli, more rings like im Kobe
They want the shine but i grind by my lonely
Fuck all the oppers now act like they know me
Im fuckin they
couches, ounces, by the fountain
On James all night man, it’s going down
Sacked up, band up
Vic higher than a truck
30 in the 40,
Try to rob,
I’ll cock
And Barbara Jordan
Gladys Bentley
Alvin Ailey
James Baldwin
Toni Morrison and maya Angelou
I hope you knew
But If you didn’t
Now you do
Take me to the place Tom Dooley was hung
Play, "St. James Infirmary" and, "The Port of King James"
If you want to remember, you better write down
we coldblooded with this pimp game
All my niggas like Rick James
All my niggas got big chains - All my niggas got big chains
All my niggas got big
Bond
James Bond
James Bond
So let me get this straight
You guys are spies on a secret mission
Quite right, Mr. Bravo, quite right
Secret Agent Code 14
to intrigue me ain't easy
Unless you bringing them bad beasies in three-bies
We be having them louder than one-ninety-four dB
Organ, grinding, so they pour
Morrison
Return of the Mack, then break that ass off
Give me some Keith Sweat, ease back go off
Dry humping that kneecap till they scream last call
She
by baby
Will you say bye bye
I'm on the phone, don't ask me, uh
DM blown, don't @ me, uh
If you tryna get nasty
I'm Rick James, got boots on your
the rolling stone tour (ah-ahhh!)
Raw your wack set is faker than a bomb threat
By a nervous terrorist who's so scared that his palms wet
[all] one, two, three,
at the Q, what's up with me and you
Chorus
Got it goin' on
I want to get with you
'cause I feel it
Cheryl "Salt" James:
Yeah, when I hit your block I
sittin' in the middle
Me and my son, Wheezy, got a house by the water
I'll be fuckin' bad bitches (bad bitches, bad bitches)
I be hittin' they daughters
right out of those woods
Old Dillon had a million tales but he sung me one refrain
And I recall that song by John Dillon James
One July Monday morning
If there's a god, god bless the boys who pull me up from the lows
Praise Howlin' Wolf, Dylan
Praise Little Feat and Morrison
When my obsessions
shot, they're like "Aww, here Kobe comes"
But I got this bad bitch trying to throw me buns
If I listened to my Uncs, all them older ones
They all talk
you'll understand
only guns can save us as we pass by the band now think
of all the people we new
in our passed who passed on they in heaven found
watching
Jessie to my James we could be like team rocket
All this rain pouring got me holding up my jacket
Only time you getting wet is in the bed when we
is that what you said
I mean with all this dick in your mouth girl you can't help but keep stuttering
If I ain't dead by 27 then I don't wanna survive
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