Lyrics:
a souped up tempo
I'm on a roll, it's time to go solo
Rollin' in my 5.0
With my ragtop down so my hair can blow
The girlies on standby
Waving just
'm headed for the win and everything that comes with that
Coming for the plug Blow up like a spark
I hope I make enough
I hope I make it back on time
When I
Yeah, go ahead and lace up your cigars to this one
It's a new day
Trying to open my mind and find some time
It's a new day
Trying to open my mind
it with this guy?
Tory Lanez coming back what am I gonna do this time?
They didn't like none of my diss lines
Everybody knows I can spit it in quick
a souped up tempo
I'm on a roll, it's time to go solo
Rollin' in my 5.0
With my ragtop down so my hair can blow
The girlies on standby
Waving just
thoughts
'Ey said 'Keep your head up boy
This energy's yours
And in three years' time you'll
Be headin' on tours'
But I can't describe what kind
Of world I
they see the great
Power this brings them and it
Soon becomes their dominant mind-set
We find these types in all cultures
And all time periods from
Let's do this
JJ
Let's go
Yeah, I told you I don't play
I don't play no games
Told you I don't give a jack about a phase
If you tryna fly by Jack,
We're compensating by drinking some beer
Hear me clear it's part of the plan
Blow up Iraq, blow up Iran
Load up the gat blow up your fam
Why do we do it I
I'll spend in a minute (Blow it)
All this money in the way
Niggas ain't in my vision
(I don't see 'em)
I was really on that block
I came up from nothin'
immigrant
Put up your hands you know what I'm sayin'?
I'ma start this shit off like this, this time around
H-to-the-A-to-the-I-to-the-T-to-the-I
Live
And with this in mind, I still didn't quit
And that's how I know that I ain't shit (I ain't shit)
My heart bleed but that's aside from the fact
I live for
stepping on my rock
Had to call the Landlord so I answered my own phone
Call to your mommas, you little kids needa stay home
Bible
I can't change who I am
'm a highway star
I'm a highway star
Oh, yes I am, you mothers
Thank you. That's a new one, taken off Machine Head.
This is a song about...
Sweet child
on the table like it's dinner time
And this is what you call stereotyping by far?
Can you tell me me why your dog keep sniffing my car?
Huh? Got the audacity
on the table like it's dinner time
And this is what you call stereotyping by far?
Can you tell me me why your dog keep sniffing my car?
Huh? Got the audacity
Quik
My mama said, "Ben, are you aware your hair is way too thin"
But in my mind I was junior high, Iceberg Slim
Feelin' fine, gettin' high, spendin'
fog
Was my mind
Like I was chased by a dog
Named time
I felt just like a cog
In line
Rolled downhill like a log
Get grind
I thought that people hurt
clones
I'm getting on for being realer
I'mma get mine 'til the world don't spin
Cruising down the block trying
To clock my ends
Old school Caddy or a new
city they feelin' me, yuh
I'm the type of nigga gon' put you to sleep
And you the same, but that'd be literally, yuh
I just heard your new lil' wack ass
The bottom got the funk
We got the funk
I'm high as the wind so I blow minds
Curb hanger and hopper at the oracle of hipster
Just like Black Caesar my depths
to explain to my Mom
That I was gonna have to go through this about 200 more times
So to you all the kids all across the land
There's no need to argue
upstaged Derek Riggs for this one. Riggsy, hmmm, he didn't do any artwork cause Halfing did the
photograph. And that, so the only shot of the band, live shot
me groceries when I didn't have no paper
And I'm grateful for this
Sometimes I look back and it's these times I miss
Making demos on my old four
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