Lyrics:
pounds of back bacon
Three French toast
Two turtlenecks
And a beer, in a tree
Beauty, eh?
Where'd you learn to do that?
Uh, albums
Boy, so, like,
shinin' in my bloodline
I get that dough 'cause I got hustle in my bloodline
I bleed concrete (ah, I hear that)
I'm G'd up (yeah)
Only follow the code
and Herbie Hancock drop the heavy load
Gene Harris and the Three Sounds for soul jazz listeners
Bobby Hutcherson up late geared to the Jazz Messengers
Horace
a man like D-E-E, come on
Come on do you really think I give
Two shit's if you're greazy?
I don't think so
You man ain't seen greazy yet
When my mandem
Tired of these rappers, tired of these jackers
I'm tired of these dances by these fuckin' backpackers
And I'm sick of all these hipsters, I'm sick
ghetto like D&D, fuckin' wit' D
You be on Banned From TV Part III
In a heartbeat, tiger, straight out the cup
You're light in the ass, son, you weigh
ghetto like D&D, fuckin' wit' D
You be on Banned From TV Part III
In a heartbeat, tiger, straight out the cup
You're light in the ass, son, you weigh
Représente 8.3, la zone, Toulon, Pontcarral, Cité Berthe
La liberté, c'est délicieux, big up aux frères de Vénissieux
La rue, la vraie, c'est périlleux,
the bigger person, just barely by an inch, tuftey
Pulled up in that bulletproof
Got ya bitch screaming like pac back
No coupes, only big bodies
So my rooftop
that's ok, I'll come by and get you. Lets say around..."
[She hangs up phone]
Richie: "Come on.."
[Phone rings]
Richie: "Hey."
Samantha: "Sorry. I guess he
my song
Brain damage
Way before my baby daughter Hailey
I was harassed daily by this fat kid named D'Angelo Bailey
An eighth grader who acted
j'suis vraiment pas d'humeur
Roule un (?), fume pas persou
Appelle pas la police, appelle la poliakou
Rien que j'mets des à-coups, gros big up à Karkou
my stash for protection
Family deranged, the world is acting crazed
I never thought I'd make it, it was hectic when I scrambled
On point like a knife
against the wall
Got to give it my all
Give it my all
Push it to the max ain't no stopping at all
New Jers lets go
1-2-3... 1-2
New Jers lets go
1-2-3
hear the tracks that they would spit
I'd bet you they have the urge to pick up the pen
And try to be significantly different, just picture it
A bunch
chilling every inch. I felt
The liquid sluice, delicious, and he smiled,
Standing over by a diamond case.
I figured he was from another act,
But he was from
spending ends
Saying, "Gimme that Benz, 20 inch rims, and four TV's"
The snitch in the precinct saying
"He sell X, he sell techs, and he sell D"
The balla by
that night New York felt
Niggas boo'd Cam'ron for a minute then caught theyselves
Like hold up, put some respect on my nigga name (Killa)
It was dope
pounds of back bacon
Three French toast
Two turtlenecks
And a beer, in a tree
Beauty, eh?
Where'd you learn to do that?
Uh, albums
Boy, so, like,
heart is icy
Catch me with the beanie, break your jaw like Double-D
See me in the rain
Popping pills, just to heal
Yea I'm on that Max Payne
This is my
to the max, thanks
I'm Orchestrating every lane at the point
I ain't trying to win this game by a POINT
Cuz we gon Win Big
I been putting in that pain at this
one that I grew up with
And Max and Sam, man guys, I love y’all
I meant to say “Happy Birthday” I’ve been busy
I was ashamed I forgot, know I had you
and messed things up
Three years felt like five
For you felt like rewind
Our heated discussions
Come with repercussions
Cause you had somebody who was mean
am never just hoping
Know too many people died too soon
Speakers blasting super max we
Gon take it to the boom boom room
Look at me I move too smooth
.jpg/300px-NIN_@_Aragon,_Chicago_10_25_2018_(46252620014).jpg "Nine Inch Nails")
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