Lyrics:
Happy holidays
Let me come here and talk to you
I gotta stop sayin' I'm not doin' this shit no more knowin' I'm cappin'
(Great John on the beat by
but somehow I got by
Creflo pray Mike Vick payed bobby brown stray Whitney lost weight
Kimbo Slice on the pad when I write
That Mayweather money
I'ma soldier!
Stick in my chrome receiver, and I fins to get it on
Influenced by the dolja
Blastin' at the rollers
Callin' couple of soldiers
you got a back up plan 'cause that shit might come in handy
Started a label, the album is comin' September, just wait on it
This year I'm eatin' your
Still with the hopeless, it can be gone by the morning
Working like I ain't got it
And she ain't coming withdraws when you making deposits
I think reality
boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom
Ayo
(Griselda)
Brr brr brr
(By Fashion Rebels)
Ayo, I don't leave without my pistol warm
Drive-bys, I'm
your label kissin ass like a damn sucker
Meanwhile, Mag in Virginia in some house shoes, watchin the news
Do my album when I'm ready, tell my label
that outlives him
Like Malcolm did, we are out of sync
And out of time by the sound of things
Arms long like Dhalsim is how to win
Best murder machine
a corpse across a crowded street
And I smoked a cigarette
I stole a car with a baby in the seat
And I sold it on a bet
My life goes by in
Nightfall comes and the crickets scream
Deafened by the latest lotto ticket schemes
Cement lies and white picket dreams
The pain on his face is glistening
hard stare seem to scare all my sister's kids
So you know, I don't hang around the house much
This all-night, money makin' got me outta touch
Shit,
a riot
If I don't talk about it on my album, they won't buy it
Man, fuck that, listen up, quiet
They wanna see a black man fall down, uh
They wanna see
I trust that everyone is enjoying the music
As the title of the album suggests
This was meant for your listening pleasure
While you are being done
the album dropped
White Lexus before I had a deal
Ask Bun B about me
This ain't no snap back, a nigga been trill
By the way, fuck your math
You ain't
hundred thou
When the nigga, spent then with a smile
Stacking numbers that alarm and race
White house still moving bricks alarm today
I'm that bin
album baby, I came back around
By myself this time, back off the wall
Guns up in the air in the middle of the streets like blak blak blak, welcome
the house & he brought his man with him
I leave rap in a state of shock
Where to rock, from the figures still
Play the block with my niggas
Ill lush,
album baby, I came back around
By myself this time, back off the wall
Guns up in the air in the middle of the streets like blak blak blak, welcome
from here
They started talking over by the rail fence
It looked like Papa was getting mad
Walked to the house and papa was crying
Papa never cried and I
out of time
If you wanna be successful then be careful what you get surrounded by
I keep going out my mind
Trying to beat out the lies
But I'm crowded
head keeps pounding
Sounding like some voices in it kinda getting crowded
Astounded that they kicked me out it
I'm controlled by another entity
Telling
Listen little man you're not the only one you've had
There's a river crowded well with single squatters like yourself
And if you think you know just
I oppose the concept of being alone
In a crowded house filled with clones
Please be quiet and drive me far away
Away from the last, away from
You lived by a dream but that dream got shattered/
you tried to move on but your life don't really matter/
cold-hearted you try to cling
Discuss these by s album crowded house Lyrics with the community:
Report Comment
We're doing our best to make sure our content is useful, accurate and safe.
If by any chance you spot an inappropriate comment while navigating through our website please use this form to let us know, and we'll take care of it shortly.
Attachment
You need to be logged in to favorite.
Log In