Lyrics:
First things first
Get a bag by putting in the work
First things first
Slap a nigga make sure that it hurts
First things first
Leave them mad while
held hostage by my thoughts
And I'm feelin' kind of lonely
I guess I'm just lost
We ain't workin' & it's hurtin' my feelings
I'm gettin' nervous & I'm
Bad film reel, had to get out the shot or get sealed in the Bronx
Had my stomach in a knot
Were we gonna make it or not?
Raised by my mom and my aunts
Rocking for the 845
When we skateboard by
Gotta stay more fly
Than the next one
Waiting on our ****
Keep it hot
Hold it down for the squad
'Cause you
Rockin' for the 845
When we skateboard by
Gotta stay more fly
Than the next one
Waiting on our shit
Keep it hot
Hold it down for the squad
'Cause you
fodder papped by the press pack
Depict martyrs propaganda sets fads It gets darker the trends just set back
Gargoyles watch the canons spray
The kettles
You pick up on chic fads
And cut tags
There's too much sentiment for where you're at
We drive down roads you hate
For antiques
Eye makeup on my
It was spoken and it came to pass
Yeah this is an everlast
Yeah it's going by so fast
Yeah It's always on Max
It was spoken and it came to pass
Yeah
mind
I'm no longer bound by
Your web of lies
Oh love everlasting's a fad and the last thing
I want from you
Still you were the best that I'd had
understanding or communication the
Result too often is
Bigotry by ignorance unintended prejudice
Any man that would treat a
Woman as property you keep
Is nothing
your sister
Call me mister, call me flipper, call me mister fuck the babysitter, mom ain't raise a quitter
Fuck boys bitter, always mad, fuck the fads
I am not such a clever one
About the latest fads
I admit I was never one
Adored by local lads
Not that I ever try to be a saint
I'm the type
I am not such a clever one
About the latest fads
I admit I was never one
Adored by local lads
Not that I ever try to be a saint
I'm the type
I am not such a clever one
About the latest fads
I admit I was never one
Adored by local lads
Not that I ever try to be a saint
I'm the type
astonishing and fly
And by just blinking my eye
In a flash I flush out the face, layin' low-key
Trained eyes locate to focus on the phony
Mister
Of the week" fad
Right now wit' skinny jeans and weak raps
Rehab stats, I'm the reason you relapse
Perhaps? I've been waitin' for them
Gangstas to come back
But
I am not such a clever one
About the latest fads
I admit I was never one
Adored by local lads
Not that I ever try to be a saint
I'm the type
surrounded by body guards
Hoping no one pulls your cord you got me laughing pretty hard
Thinking you're the white hot man of the hour
But you just can't
know it never lasts
And you know how time flies by so fast
Look at rap music, they said it was a fad
But now it's takin' over, and I'm so glad
Cause
so-called scene
'Til all that's left Is just a meaningless fad
Hardcore formulas are dogshit
Change and caring are what's real
Is this a state of mind
but
What they say is "That's life"
So I guess I gotta live by that, right
Man I'm a tight man
Kickin' in some white pants
And you can leave it at that
produced by some of the greatest minds production has to offer
It was recorded, mixed, engineered, written by, and fully endorsed by yours truly
BiGG MaTT
I
to acknowledge
Or you are not aware of
The caliber of discounts
Indicated by the presence of
A heart-shaped object in your community
Hey kid, look at you! Right
Sitting in bottles and tryna get better
The struggle got worse by the day
They said who got your hand
I thought you was the man
Yeah I was the man
But when
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