Lyrics:
make this scrilla
Hooked up with Chris Hicks and Dru Down my nigga
Dropped this album I'm still slangin' pounds and zippers
Then dropped the first
rumble by
Under these faded old street lights
Whoa-whoa on the west side rules don't apply
For a man on a mission, either you live or you die
This is
career's a prophecy now
Better grab your jacket, 'cause in this world we live in it's cold out
And when my album hit the stores it's sold out
Like these
to trick
Equipped with game so we bang with this thuggish shit
I see you tryin' to hide, hopin' that nobody don't notice
You must always remember
You're
superstar
I feel like goin' buy me a new rolex
I feel this album goin' bring a big royalty check
I feel this nigga mad 'cause I fucked his bitch
I feel like
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 P-Rhymes rich
approaching every drop
Like a album
Misses
Can’t afford
Critically acclaimed underground
That’s cool
But I need some more
Because I do this shit for the family
for you
This is only my first album, but I got more in the works
I'm rappin' about who I am, and not about them Gucci shirts
I am me so I'm expressin'
a phase
But it’s terrifying
I swear the time is tearing by
I’m wary, I’m falling off of the pace
And I’ll never be quite as young
As I am at this very
the way to live and behave and coexist[01:45.07]But most forget the "co" part[01:46.92]I sit back and listen to first albums like So Hard by Lil
Fried rice and picken wings
Islam writes a different thing
Bust it on the countertop
Your moms trying to lick it clean (damn)
This that Calderón (Frank
to get Yeezy
He working on the album so it ain't gon' be easy
Damn, and my girl just caught a nigga
Rolled up unannounced she ain't even call a nigga
a bitter mind
Hey yo he won't let go
The Devils always runnin' never far behind
And hey yo I gotta break free
To live this life the way its supposed to be
happened
Not a break for a bit
I was gone with no backing
Cut my connections off
Wrote this album and packed it
Every word in this bitch
Bet your ass that it
My life is a haunting which is haunted by the looks of you
My old man ran away because he's scared to really face the truth
Tired is
I'd rather fail than live by your tasks
Cause when I'm on my own I get farther than where they put me at
You're just angry cause these are the facts,
Got the classical flow
I'm back, here we go
My disc player ready 'cause I can't live without my stereo, believe me, I like it loud
You can feel
(Fuck all you hoes! Get a grip, motherfucker!)
Yeah, this album is dedicated
To all the teachers that told me I'd never amount to nothin'
To all
on
Talkin' 'bout he Italian
Say I won't go drop a double album
And rap double time on all dub-step
And got no producers
Just me rockin' over beat-boxin'
By
You only good as yo last album
You ain't fucking with my worst album
I know you heard me like Max volume
Probably thought I wouldn't pass by you
Search
on this shit
('Cause this pain inside)
(It never seems to pass me) see I feel even more trapped
(I said it never seems to pass me by)
Yeah
Where'd we
a thousand times
(Chorus)
Ever been to Hell?
This is a black-and-white photo album outlines in increments
The infrastructure is dead
Instructed look
my penmanship
This is the venom invented to finish your feelings of innocence
No one is innocent
All are infected by sin and its synonyms. Yeah
I’m
So many times I excuse shit
People watch my life like a movie
They will never get a full clip
My album name is my middle name
This a side of me that
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