Lyrics:
surrounded by these mice men
There's an obvious skill gap
You make friends with the tracks and I kill that
I'm rapping for the fun of it
Don't defecate
fated
To a double standard life
He wonders why
The man don't cry
He wonders why
The man don't cry
What is the boy
But an extension of the men, who
Man I think we got a real one here
Ali’s been in album mode, when he lets the album go he’ll have an ill one year
An hour ago it was still unclear
The start of today's
Big event: the final of the Mens'
Being Eaten By A Crocodile event i'm standing
Now by the crocodile pit where-
(crunching, screams,
'em
Emotional victim blackmailed by the henchmen
Framed by intentions
Inventions whereby they lynch men
Enter the false witness
Slandering the accused
to a fucking remix
of frozen, oh my god what if he hears this?"
Why are all the pretty girls getting secluded by crusty little men who make them feel excluded?
the present.
We do hereby declare reality unkempt by the changing standards of dialogue.
Statements, such as, "keep it real", especially when punctuating
on water
But I ain't no Jesus
I walk on water
But only when it freezes
It's the curse of the standard
That the first of the Mathers disc set
Always
be
But can't you lower your standards for me
I know that you're used to an orbit of stars
Men who finish your sentences and glow in the dark
When you
den, pass by haters like light wind
Get it in blood like mosquitoes on light skin
Aight den, I run with a clique of hype men
Trained to go and always
you 'cause you love my brother like you did
Just promise me you'll tell this story when you make it big
And if I die before your album drop I hope
I'm Kendrick Lamar, mmm
A.K.A. Benz is to me is just a car, mmm
That mean your friends need to be up to par
See my standards are pampered by
I'm Kendrick Lamar, mmm
A.K.A. Benz is to me is just a car, mmm
That mean your friends need to be up to par
See my standards are pampered by
fading
My hands not shaky
I can go adjust the line up if you make me
Starting five like the Hampton’s
Stand up nigga with high standards
Don’t get caught
This album they demand it. This cover photo is candid on an iPhone camera. I’ll always try not to vanish. Trying to set the standard for the woman
old, have 5 album
I will make more music and more albums in the future(Yeah)
Oop on me, but hurt it(Wa)
They can't stop play dick, keep from orgasm(Oh)
on this album I just signed ta Diplomat yesterday
What's really good
(I mean, I mean the album is done I mean
You know you on the next joint you on my
(charlie)
Se'kkje meg tilbake går schwarzenegger maskin
For d meste glutenfri men opitater e bensin
Om eg kuler an i 5 år eller 10
Har eg flere album enn folk
The world by the balls, eatin' out my palm
Every album song I was spazzin'
The fuck out on
And now I'm gettin' frowned and clowned on
But the only one who's
snakket litt, danset litt, du vet, standard blanding/
eg skjønte det med en gang at dette vasje vanlig/
sorry, eg gikk over streken, eg kan si eller be/
You already know what I been on
You know where I be at
'Cause men lie, women lie
Numbers don't, I see that
Catch me in a private jet
Like fuck
los laureles.
This ranchera is a standard for all
Mariachis and dates back to the 1920's
Or 1930's. It is supposed to have been
Written by Consuelo
of it
Those who spoke of love have suffered killed by the public
Men are suckers thus subject to be puppets
And are suckered much by little or nothing
can't make that hoe into your housewife
She ain't fuckin' with me 'less I come right
She can have some standards, so why can't I
She don't want no nigga
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