Lyrics:
kill it
I'ma kill it
My nigga its the
M-A-Triple-D-O
Don't forget the C ho
Visualize the audio
Its album number cinco
Lyrics by the Doctor
You're
Yeah! Ladies and gentlemen
I wanna thank you for dropping by
You've been listening to
The soundtrack to my life at thirty five
A slice of my mind,
grinding to the day they put me in a body bag me
To give my kids a future that I never had
When you serve a pluck by your daughter and you don't feel no
Żebyś czuła że o Ciebie będę dbał
Ale wiem już jak to jest
Kiedy życiu ktoś nadaje nowy sens
Chcę cię całą
Z tobą chcę zestarzeć się
I mieć album pełen
gwiazdę
Ludzi, co by sprzedali duszę diabłu
Aby zdobyć platynowy album, wiesz?
Prawie każdy jedzie za plecami po każdym
Kochanie - taki jest urok w tej
the stu and spits his damn mind
That's talent, That's generational
Y'all like groupies watching his every move)
If my album don't drop
Prolly got caught by
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'
been
My mind fits in all spaces
With no storage in it
In a year, I dropped 2 albums
But the digits didn't
The year ain't done yet
And I ain't even
I be on the way
I'm sorry about the way
The new album is on the way
I'm in my zone
On and off stage I perform
I'll take them by storm now
Watch I'm
The end has arrived, this album reached the end of its time... the end of its time
I'm low on supplies, the paint on the canvas is dry... the canvas
them views in hopes my shit be trending too
Fuck it I don’t give a fuck about
Views the likes the comments fraud
If my album drops my album sucks
But I’m
Alkopoligamia, która na początku
Istnienia zajmowała się produkcją ubrań
By z czasem rozszerzyć działalność
O fonografię w tekstach na solowych płytach
Najczęściej
w twojej kawie
(zgaszę blanta w twojej kawie)
Dawaj album, masz go? Prawie
Widziałem, jak moi przyjaciele
Wstrzykują sobie marichuaninę
Dekadę
Hold up, hold up, hold up, hold up, hold up fuck nigga you know you a hater….
Don’t be tryin’ to act like you’re my kin folk
By the look up in yo
Hold up, hold up, hold up, hold up, hold up fuck nigga you know you a hater….
Don’t be tryin’ to act like you’re my kin folk
By the look up in yo
Vers I
Back in 1992, bababadabababadabababada
It was two years after New kids hit the charts
Six years after Madonna stole my heart
It was TLC
to speak, provided cobblestone
Stole to steal parone, cut the heart up out of Caesar
I protect the black Madonna shrine from seizures
I survived the 80's
Every night I sit here by my window (window)
Starin' at the lonely avenue (avenue)
Watching lovers holdin' hand an' laughin' (Hahaha)
And thinkin'
Ratin latent, and perpetratin
My album's love mics, tough like dirt bikes
You get frantic, New York City, run and panic
California, I switch
never even called me by my name
You don't have to call me Waylon Jennings
And you don't have to call me Charlie Pride
And you don't have to call me
never even called me by my name
You don't have to call me Waylon Jennings
And you don't have to call me Charlie Pride
And you don't have to call me
must be crazy, nigga
Onе song for my deluxe is all I need to do
These puppies barkin'
They done bit off more than they can chew
My album just dropped
I'm
lighters up
Put your fist up, put your lighters up
The don Jo’burg city icon
Turflon, hidden by the Sean John
Iced up so your girlfriend respond
Come here
Put The Work In
Put the work in
Aye
Put the work in
Put the work in
Told the baby girl she gotta do it with a purpose
Madonna by the mirror
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