Lyrics:
well
We are some partying mothafuckas"
Tired of these rappers
Tired of these jackers
I'm tired of these dances
By these fucking backpackers
And I'm sick
up, the realest shit I ever quote
Look into my eyes and you can see I hustle 24
24, 24 hours grinding overdose
Money running low, the studio rebirth
look at me
Living my life, feeling free
No more stress is on me
No more stress is on me, yeah
Unsure of a starting point
Album did not disappoint
Had
else, we from the projects man
We don't give a fuck, man that shit is mad fucking surrounded by buildings like fucking jail, man
And I'm running in
have found us more out in the town
Fucking around
Putting our names into the pavement when we pee on the ground
This album is a classic
Jurassic Park
Look
It's been a long time coming
I'm Chasing my dream for this long, and I never stopped running
I mean
Who would've thunk it?
Tryna make it so far,
Summertime's going by too fast
I always forget that it tends to do that
Summertime's going by too quick
Sorry for the officers that I was such
a solar eclipse
Neat dude What’s your genre what’s your niche
Bitch I do it all at once on the same fucking album like it's
Picnic by the lake by the farm
I understand why you hating you doing bad I can tell
But if you ain't getting no money you should be mad at ya self
And we just kept running thru
tell them all my secrets
It's the fear of this
That keeps me running
Were we chosen? Are we rejects?
Will they understand?
The question leaves me
the life
Hazel eye
Gemini
Thick thigh
Been a dime
Pass by
Guarantee they double take every time
Old soul said her favorite album was "Aquemeni"
Introduced
and wait with bated breath for what I write
Win without and within, each album will be white
Pop plenty champagne in my own private plane
Only lines, no
laughing
On 83, by 82, would've been 81
In the 80's they made money by hustling anyone
79 flows, got 78 more
I think I got around 77 songs that I wrote
It's
the spot
Get 'em higher, light the fire, look, time's running out
Space is panickin', he in the closet, he ain't coming out
That's 'cause I'm invading
T in the spliff
Pour 3 in this bitch
Like why he shoot from the hip
Passionate but scandalous
Mr fantastic fabulous
Running through your catalog
Pass
holding wisdom
Driven by the rhythm
Brought the truth
Cold whispers
Go get'em
Soul system
The flow so different
And now we at lift off
Tap in and catch
New album the twenty fifth so you better mark your calendar
Shout out Drive By
Og's remember
albums in
I can tell you things
Bout people you run with
I can see a fling, a flame, a spark
And all the sum of it
Ran ya tape by my dawgs
They didn't
to match the sound
Head through the ceiling when your Masked by the clown
It ain't always important no matter if it is a noun
Follow All the mornings to end
imagination running wild I see a wife you see a child
But I'm due for luck she wont be creaped
By the end of this song in her mind in my arms she leaps
Now if
(How are we gonna make a 'New Jazz' album without any Jazz?)
(What's Jazz?)
(What is Jazz?)
Fuck it
New Jazz, Bad Bitches
New Jazz, Bad Bitches
New
Near can't stop in a booth
Collected a piece when I picked up by 2
They still want me to lose
When it didn't stack up I had to remove
Running plays
liquor in this cup boy like loose change
How can I be famous & socially awkward
Used to have them hoes running homie just like clockwork
Uh ya hope my
on point and you can't never lack
Tdot died by the store that shit had me like what the fuck
Cause a few days ago I went to that store to get something
I
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