Lyrics:
Real love don't have an image
Not magic witness by havin’
Bitches or grabbin' riches
If it's about your own self-validation
You’re bound to fail
Rebel, renegade, must stay paid
Not by financial aid, but a raid of hits
Causing me to take long trips
I'm the original teacher of this type of style
wack, they all see me
Warm up two like some hot car seats
By the end of this year, I'll buy a TV
I'll be on TV, on a tall HD
I'm living that life and I
Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha
Now it's about to be talked about
You're gettin' slapped by my grammar
Vocals like a hammer with roots from Alabama
I'm under
Yo what's up guys welcome to the Nasy podcast
It is your host, King Squishy
And welcome to this lovely album we call "The Youngins"
So today I got
, that's what my cousin Meechie say
But we could pull about five, I'm talkin' five, that's just by either way
Five million for my album, that's an easy
and four chords repeated
Completed by a relatable lyrical concept about an ex or something
This isn't for the masses
It's for the
musically analytical
So
Mmh uh
Ain't yellin' cut when it's shootin' time
Sign up, it's recruitin' time
Big wigs with a suit and tie
And them big things got two inside
off the stoop with
Know I kick in my two cents, it's duffles and toothpicks
To give you 16 feel like if a pound flew in
Competition Nutso, let's GPS
getting pass-ons, be by-gones
Nevertheless is definitely hit and hits are what we strive on
We feel this way every single day all day
So make way
Was
not Josey, but I mosey on down
To a meadow where the flowers stay wilted
So what I ain't hit as many skins as Wilt the Stilt did
It's like that, never
bands up
Shoutout to my folks all the way in alabama
When you get free hit my phone
Yo leeko was good
I got a plan to get this money bro lets get this
you get hit in yo pajamas
You gon roll or you tied do it like Alabama
Keep the love that you got, loyalty make us family
Nique Got-It huh, yea better
the bricks I got the pounds, im out here campaigning
I got the sticks, a hundred rounds, im out here gun slanging
We take the hits, looking around here for
folks
Crazy motherfucker and we all know
Him by Jelly Roll
First real Nashville artist to make it
On the Jimmy Fallon Show
But ever since more people hit
was getting thin when in she slunk
The band were playin ''Why Don't We Get Drunk''
When they said last call, she hit the floor
And shouted out for more
Breaking news!
(Lilly's?) chapel Methodist church at the heart of intercourse, alabama feels a sudden Shock as a little boy pops and locks too hard,
but it's causing division
Baby jeweler two point O
I'm like a new edition
Always had the truest mission
I never changed I been ten toes
Since a snotty
[Starting Verse]
Down in Dixieland, where the spirits high
Alabama country, beneath that southern sky
Melodies playin', on an acoustic guitar
Singin'
To all the coons, I say "Hi!"-de-ho
Produced by the mighty pro
Crazy Kay Gee kickin' hit's like Karate Joe
Always with the mind every time to
Blame it
hoes
who knows where the night might go, hit the doe
like yeah, blinded by the glare of the strobe light
see something i like its going down on sight
chicks and get some digit's
And the DJ's playing them hit's
"Oh, this my jam! This my shit!
We don't know a word to a verse
All we know is the chorus
at your engineer:
A Japanese guy with glasses on with straight leg jeans and a beer
Got you on Hit Factory with four groupies with acne
Thinking you
can't compete
Pussy nigga check my physique
I'm a freak, made 3 albums in 6 months
I'm so unique, I'm elite
I'm prestigious, got two hoes in the same
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