Lyrics:
bitches so much into themselves they forgot about me
And I'm sittin here, butt motherfuckin naked G
But after time went by, yo
You know a nigga like me,
got these bitches so much into themselves they forgot about me
And I'm sittin here, butt-motherfuckin-naked G
But after time went by, yo
You know
Consider this a test and if you pass you'll be my number one"
She said, "Okay it's a date
I gotta make a few runs, so pick me up at eight"
"Huh, better
The incantation they gave voice to in the midst of that sanguineous turmoil which engulfed them was not so much heard by those within earshot as perceived, sensed
regret
You've got so much ahead of you, now know that your time isn't over yet (no)
Can't take all the suffering
Come and give me a hand
Before I call
and miss, then fuck around and get
Found in a ditch
Gotta labels give me dough, when they find I can, gross this much
Freestyle shit, you can tell em I
words mark you forever
Why do I feel like a burning sunset matches
More the fall than the summer time
Preserve the light of my eyes
So that I may see
feeding it fresh so baby please bite back
I'll give you satisfaction till your eyes roll
I'll make you breakfast in bed
Have you feeling so fat
Then I'll
So
[Repeat x2]
Treat your woman right
Or get that burning bed at night
You've got to treat her right
Treat her right - treat her right
Burn
Does it feel you're the coward of the year?
You're the coward of the year
I'm so laborious, bright
Its a wreck in dire vocabulary
Adversaries will
the hands of the beholder
So then I start the heart-on-my-heart as I walk like a soldier
Moving so militant, you think I had a chip on my shoulder
Living by
chop me down
Or cage me so I can't leave now
You turnt my leafs brown
I want to go back to my roots
But you prevent me and instead give me the black
Got smoke in our eyes got high till we were coughing
You always turned trauma into good humour
You loved my art so much you wanted me to tutor
Held
It is not about lyrics anymore
It's about a hot beat and a catchy hook
If we gotta dumb down our style and ABC it, then so be it
'Cause nowadays
sore throat
Petty more dope(?), the war won't stop till you hop in a porthole
And sort those problems out, child, it ain't all about your style
Cause you
about what they say
They're lost, misguided sheep
Who hate themselves more than you anyway
So you wanna be a rap god?
Stop worryin' 'bout everyone else
getting past me
If you got a problem homie at me
All you fuckers are getting too chatty
While the forests burning out in Cali
Yeah me and Addy back to work
I remembered that the line: ""Tomorrow morning, God willing, you will be awakened again," had always shaken me very much. It wasn't death, which I
my prints are wrinkled then they let me go
I know not where I'm going so I know not where I go
My people give me money, but the money much too low
it, what was once so majestic
Is now only adored by epileptics
I record to resurrect it, by my own accord I can't accept it
But when something gives
opposing don't be in a hurry to get noticed
So when they notice they devoted
Not grabbing on to get a dosage of what you worked for
Better learn more to put
I been working on my style, no guru
I will hurt you, no voodoo
I'm sick of my life cause I'm feeling like it's making me coo coo
I'm from 216 where
so far away
I smoke too much the problems of a 20 something
I drink too often there's liquor pouring from the faucet
You would assume by following
to the noble unbeatable length of hair that I bare
so bare witness I'm physically fittin' this
a desease so MC's please take a techna shot
you got what I give I
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