Lyrics:
and the alimony
Is why I'm broke, but I don't care because
My impact is mandatory in a age of fake and
I'm perplexed by the hate
Why flex in your songs if
They
album like a bird in a corner store
Keep it real boy
Trill got the good dope!
See grill, big bills, with a thick hoe
About an ounce of that good dolja
We
was
fuckin' dynamite!"
[Ill Bill]
Ill Bill lost sanity - lost humanity
Lost in a maze of purple haze, cannabis sativa - spit ether - violently
don't have to call me darlin', darlin'
You never even called me by my name
Well, I've heard my name
A few times in your phone book (hello, hello)
And I've
'cause the
Winners never even really runnin' it
How the country functioning?
TSA lines with a gun in it
I pray to touch down we ain't puntin' it
Niggas
when the dope game got dangerous
In my interviews talking plug talk
On my last album I explained it (I explained it)
With a fork telling you let
can grab
Don't wanna come off conceited, too proud
In front of those who really ain't have
Less than nothing, I ain't frontin'
Suburban country, I'm
on the internet?
Why do you have so much talent and benefits?
Why you keep droppin' your album in increments
c.D.H.D is a social experiment
Who pay attention
I'm gettin' sold this dream
I put my trust in wrong places
Cah my heart's too clean
I'm homeless and hopeless
Just my balls and fiends
By hook or by
Uh, quite weary and all
When I raise the bar the height scary a fall
Put the country on my back
Yeah, I might carry it all
My lady told me get
Ayo, I break bread, ribs, hundred dollar bills
Peel on Ducatis and other four wheels
Write a book full of medicine and generate mills
Tour the album
out ya ass!
So find my album in the stores and look for the white steam
Rip it open, play it and yo' momma might scream
It's hard, other albums are
Bill and I got married following our first born
Daddy left this gas & convenience store just before he died
And I was only nineteen when I had my
[Swizz beatz]
Let's get it started, get it started
Let's keep it started, keep it started
Yeah, yeah, violator the album
Go, go, go!!
[l
he doin' well
Honestly, I thought Bill was gon' die in jail (I did)
Who the fuck be listenin' to Tyler, The Creator music (who?)
That's what DJ
rewind cause I'm in your mind like a one-sided
Love and it goes by when you sit and cry
Cause really I don't blame you for missing rhymes I designed
dollar bills
Peel on Ducatis and other four wheels
Write a book full of
Medicine and generate mills
Tour the album, only for more sales
Last name stoner,
by the holler
Got a twelve pack of beer sitting way Over yonder let's get drunk, I'll try My luck
Yeah, we turning up this town in some jacked up
country old style feels
It's the mud pit out on 29
Bonfires with the apple pie moonshine
It's cruisin Main Street past closin time
The trucker at bills
Ayo, I break bread, ribs, hundred dollar bills
Peel on Ducatis and other four wheels
Write a book full of medicine and generate mills
Tour the album
to Florida City, Opa-Locka
By way to Overtown and look at this city
Open to Grove and the South Miami
Wedwood Highlear, look Eddie, look 'Bana
Some many ice
Written by dewey bunnell and bill mumy, ©1984
Found on perspective.
Each time I call you I feel my heart beat
I want to be there walkin' up
an acronym
Flow so trill I should patent it
Never serve bubble rap when I package it
Blows by the truckload when the track is sent
In other words, you all
it over to the next bandstand
For this crossbreed country music case like a stud with a Texas brand
I sang my songs in Nashville got an album in
.jpg "Bill Gaither")
.jpg "Bill & Gloria Gaither")
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