Lyrics:
the weed for ya in my backpack
Imma be Frank Sinatra with ya like the Rat Pack
Ay man
that's 'cause I'm headed to the bank, nigga
Sinatra lifestyle, I'm just bein' frank with ya
I mean, where you think she at when she ain't with ya?
a name
So blame it all on the gangster rapper, thanks to Joey Crack
For the chance to do it my way like Frank Sinatra
I ain't a actor so it's all facts,
you've got on the other side of that lovely little package in your hands, you've got Run To The
Hills, Phantom Of The Opera, and Losfer Words, or in other
see'mon turn me up and
Talib Kweli in the house with
Guerrilla monsoon rap - all the shorties like "who dat?"
Got the whole crowd like "how ya do dat?"
a lot-ta
I'll outfox the, average Porsche ya Boxster talk
Break the bank on some old Frank Sinatra (New York)
Slash Chi-Town, slash Philly
Check the blast
You remind me of a Frank Sinatra song, ooh
The way you move me it's like we knew it all along, mm
There you are just standing
Head to toe so
your wrist at?
I can kill you in four bars, that's a Kit Kat
Did the Lambo my way with a sick wrap
Smooth as Frank Sinatra with a motherfucking slick
Fly me to the moon
Let me play among the stars
Let me see what spring is like on Jupiter and Mars
In other words, hold my hand
Oh, in other
Fly me to the moon
And let me play among the stars
Let me see what spring's like
On a-Jupiter and Mars
In other words, hold my hand
In other words
they would stay
They’d be side by side till her dying day
Anna Frank is gone
But her spirit lives on and on
She first wrote as a child, 13 to the day
Yo this that Disco Frank Sinatra, I been sipping on Madonna
I could get it how I wanna if I wanna I don’t wanna
Facebook scrolling through some
Let these words be your Earth and moon, you consume every message
As I lead this army, make room for mistakes and depression
And with that being said,
a minute, wait a minute
I'm getting in a little too deep here
Franklin, let me ask you
See, the thing is Frank and I are not that kind of close anymore
for 8 weeks in 1948
-competing versions charted by Frank Sinatra (#7), Sara Vaughn (#8), and
-Dick Haymes (#11).
-Words and Music by Eden Ahbez
There
excited to see exactly what we might be
In this moment me and you could fly around the sun or land on the moon
Watch the world turn as we look down
From
rich by the summer
All these blues in my pocket like I robbed the bank
We the big three, me, Glock, and Paper Route Frank (yeah)
All these pussy-ass
wait
Many days
But today I know that everything is fake
When you talk to me the sugar coating is three-quarters
Almost lost myself in words of love you
and hang em like a noose
So many questions with no answers that's the life we choose
And like Sinatra said i wanna fly up to the moon baby send me
collection call my phone, never ask me "who's this"
Sidewalk with my headphones on, life is in the music
I always keep an attitude, like I'm Frank Lucas
Frank
Melodically and sonically the best and
Ironically was choir boy MVP
You can't tempt me i used to get head by the
Pews during father franks hour-long homilies
kind of gravity
And she doesn't know
That I want her so
And when I see her I believe in every
Heartbreak tale and Sinatra song
She took me to the moon
every full moon like a lycanthrope
life is cloaked in darkness, watch us knife the pope
or any other faggot catholic bastard
caught raping children kill
Just to watch you veg
Me and Ryan Gosling got somethin' in common
We both fly as fuck and rock with the Mormons
She wormin' that shit with that shit in
.jpg/228px-Frank_Sinatra_(1957_studio_portrait_close-up).jpg "Frank Sinatra")
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