Lyrics:
From the land of Larry Hoover where they bury shooters
I'm shinin' hard, Stanley Kubrick
We don't live by the law
Two-time felony charge, gun totin'
Unusual fellow
The album's three times dope
Don't hope it's going to be mellow
I'm coming with the force of a county sheriff
Serving subpoenas
of a master
You never thought you'd be bodied by a bastard
A bachelor who backspin on breakbeats
Break necks of broke souls who hate me
Hate he? you can't
production's tight
Sometimes I might catch a severe case of writer's block
But by the end of the day you'll be on my jock
My name's Malik my hobby's putting
Give me the cue
Skip the introduction
Proceed the lip function
The junction get rushed by some grimy people busting weed
Splatter your melons like
all you want is wealth, they perceive it as greed
So as you loaded up that MAC and continue to bust
I was on paper, thinkin' they don't give a fuck
the thing to make the things worse Baby I should think first
‘For I make the things worse
My name is Trev
And this is an album by me It’s called RUMTLOVE
eyes you should see how much time I deprived of my self
Every day I sign in to life and disguise myself
Fuck having a friend, I just be by myself
I live
Swimming pools and champagne
Sunday afternoon Marvin Gaye playin
Sippin from a paper cup
Roll a couple zig zag papers up
Talk less and act more
I
Due to hit the papers and
Then the judge in chambers
I said 2020 vision
Now I can see him in the distance
I really manifested this
They didn't want
suckas hating on my name cause I'm next
Protected by the planes
J-L-R family crest
Momma fall back from them lames and fly with the best
Get paid
Take this canvas and paint it blank
I mean ink 'til the paper's vanished
I mean think 'til the page has perished
I mean pen 'til it's maker's met it
broken
I ain't't jokin, girl, I'm still in love
The kid is wildin', we thought he would get it down by the third album
But this nigga is still in love
fake it,to make it
If my album went gold I'd still be the greatest
Back in the days I would get caught for trulency
But now I'm puttin' money back in
boom on your black ass, bitch
You could get the finger, the middle (come and get some)
I thought I hit rock bottom, they ban my album, point
money merely talking over drums
Just to sell ah single album got me sweating by the gallons
As I got my eyes on being next wit ah razor sharp talent
As I
Benji, Benji
Yeah, uh
If the paper ain't green can't trust it
I'll move on fast
Ain't nothing
Trying to go score for score
With a man like me
You
straight trash
You hearin’ Tory singin’ and rappin’
You pay cash my album bought to drop, nigga
I'ma bout to pop, nigga
How I shoot guns and go platinum off
finish it
I feel like Bradley in Limitless
My albums a movie no images yuh
I took a second perfected my craft
Then I come back like I'm swinging a bat
away in July 2018.
‘You move me like music.’
Album design by Marloes van Asselt
Desktop publishing by Mediadub
Front cover illustration by Mencia
was distracted by noise. Something was pushing thru the strangling brush at the edge of tall shady trees. He saw the old guitar first, held high, then
Welcome to my album, I hope you stay long
I was gonna name this one Growing Pains, but
Then I found a toilet dumped by the railroad
So we took
know I?m selfish at times but bottom line, move around if that ain?t how you get down
Plus my album coming out real soon, I?m in the studio daily tryna
berattas, stack cheddar
When the Village was termed the Felix Mitchell, D and Black era
Real goodfellas, the whole Ville was down for whatever
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