Lyrics:
with too little pay.
I loved a girl in Saginaw, Michigan
The daughter of a wealthy, wealthy man
But he called me that son of a Saginaw fisherman
the sun
Like a ton feeling spun
Feeling stunned I won't be outdone
By these young guns that I son
Can you hear me anyone (one, one, one)
Can you hear me
I prayed to God that he would let my mama live,
Long enough to meet her only daughter's kids,
My father said he's worried ‘bout his only son,
If you
the sky and mountains, fish and birds
And He made you and me
God is Lord, and if you will follow Him
He'll make you a son or daughter of the Living God
By
what, I want for, my son or my daughter
The cat calls, the stray hands, the fucked up things that they said
I know its not about me, a better man I wanna
waltzed my Matilda all over
Then in 1915, my country said "son
It's time you stopped rambling, there's work to be done"
So they gave me a tin hat,
as the manifestation of the sons of God or S.O.G
And as many that do receive him, to them, he gave power to become the sons and daughters
Of the almighty
How exciting
And go give all six to that papi that sold me flour
Get a fresh baldy, make a few calls
Shop at the mall, shoot a lil' ball
Have all of my bitches on one
still movin'
Like, "Nigga, this my daughter, tell me what we doin'"
I can't see it comin' down my eyes
So I make somebody son cry
I can't see it
they fall
Got all of these rules just to live by the law
This is my surefire I don't get no applause
I'm just being me ain't no way that it's my fault
My hearts a sled
By dogs I'm lead
Moms was broke
But mouths was fed
Laws was broke
They called the feds
She don't know
Don't be mislead
If she
it's right to give our all
And if you fall, then you shall rise
I can see you're called by the look in your eyes
And I'll take you high, give you more
with too little pay
I loved a girl in Saginaw, Michigan
The daughter of a wealthy, wealthy man
But he called me that son of a Saginaw fisherman
And he called up front
Christ told me to run, to make the mark, the Son
Now I'm looking for the ones that look just like us
For the throw-away kids
Tryna
funny, if you talking money shit I need it all
My youngin' died and I need my dog
Devil on me, try to keep him off
Mood swings, I got mood swings
Move
is just call me liar.
The path’s called time,
and there’s no rhyme
in the world that could describe.
The pain I feel
for all the ill,
feel this time that his time finna end
He got 3 sons and a daughter he provide for
Ain't got no family when he gone who gon look out for em
Now he
We could've had a son or a daughter by now how did we manage to fuck that up?
Cardigans, split ends, the dead skin our lips our history, slipped from
I feel it's time we shape back up, baby
It's that time of year again
Don't Come Outside, Vol. 2 on the way
Y'all only rock with me 'cause I'm
generation
And likkle by likkle taking over from the fallen sons
Mi afa reach higher
Mi nah go turn onto stepper buh mi afi murder
The beat and pull up
Unu say
with too little pay
I loved a girl in Saginaw Michigan
The daughter of a wealthy, wealthy man
But he called me that son of a Saginaw fisherman
with too little pay
I loved a girl in Saginaw Michigan
The daughter of a wealthy, wealthy man
But he called me that son of a Saginaw fisherman
gorgeous where I come from. Surrounded by these beats
In these forests. In these streets
You aint nothin like weed
Got chiefs of all nations
Spit rhymes
nigga straight out of Compton
The fuck you magazine niggas want from me?
I rewrote the game, nigga, now talk money
All black on my Al Capone shit
I
Discuss these called me higher by all sons daughters 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