Lyrics:
(yo)i write rhymes that make niggas throw they sets up
Couldn't hold my style if you had a pair of handcuffs
In all disrespect
I'll snatch you by your
Through rutted winding streets of Kathmandu
Dodging crowded humans, cows, dogs, rickshaws
Storefronts constellated pools of blue-white
Bright
Oh the night came undone like a party dress
And fell at her feet in a beautiful mess
The smoke and the whiskey came home in her curls
And they
It’s up!! aaiiight , im ready babyboy come jam wit a outlaw lul ma hop straight out the shower , without flaw.
He don’t live by the code don’t know
ass bitch blue long braids bitch please
It's about time that I told you
I don't care if you bitches don't speak, I don't love you
Listen to the rumors
feet know the blues did it
Sometimes that's just how shit goes
Sometimes can't do shit but smoke
Sometimes my pride make me bold
Sometimes I sit alone
started selling smokes
She tells me that I'm funny
Why don't she laugh at my jokes
I find it hard to be in public when I'm high off coke
I'm unemployed but
they all die
And get eatin by flies with 72 eyes
Oil stain lunges at heavenly blue skies
Got the devil like outright mad
Like dag like a mac
Gonna pillow
the Buddha
Bring on the dancin' girls with long curls
Interlaced with lotus blossoms of pink purple and pearl
Enjoy your feast of drink and slaughtered
at your head bitch
Like maybe yeah it's Maybelline
She heard my engine
She got more water than a sour crème
First I woke up with yo ho head by my dick
He
gangstas 'ill be here 'till the curl come back
This is our world, land of the gangsta macks
Controlled by the blue and red rags
Out here we ain't into ice
the crowd come see
Girl called amber? throwing neck in latrines
Red lights I don't know what traffic means
Blue lights I don't know what traffic means
Sirens
ransacked by the rat pack
See, I'm the black Humphrey Bogart
Puffin' Blacks though, hella smart, asshole
See, this my culinary art how I
Cook up such food for
been drinking since I was too young
It's so much in my mind bottled up
I got friends that ain't get to grow up
Lived by it so they died by the gun
Other
I'm not into smoking cigs boy you finished matter fact
I don't even smoke for real but gas around like an engine
When they see that motion moving watch
From Springfield to Maine
All the letters are gone
All of the memories
That I relied on
The trains go downtown
Burnt by the sun
Blue as a gun
Sneak by my window and narrow your eyes
Grab me and pull me and tell me, "you're mine"
Things that you do don't come as surprise
I'm old enough
approach me
We out in Savannah, a trip from the burbs
Blue on bandana, fraternal a gamma
A E Pi, we chillin, Macler
I used to hit up girls
Now they always
finna run off the road
Bring her back to the bed
Make her curl up them toes
Know it can seem like my life is a movie
But I treat this shit like
Niggas always window shopping
Bitch come by a pack (Buy a pack)
We snatch a nigga chain and tell him by it back (Give me that shit)
This double g
bird nah I just want the beak
I'm geeked off of the lean and the amphetamine
I boofed that lil' bitch, now she barely can speak
I was gone by the A.M.
laughing
On 83, by 82, would've been 81
In the 80's they made money by hustling anyone
79 flows, got 78 more
I think I got around 77 songs that I wrote
It's
the shots drowned out by sirens
Blue lights on hit the cut can't find us
Nigga talk shit see the gun be rewinding
Money getting long I could hide in
Foot on the gas come try and keep up
Turbo on the engine, I'd crash before I ease up
I push 222 on the dash, might break the meter
Might just smack
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