Lyrics:
to Ghana
Look, my nieces in the Audi had to make me one promise (uh huh)
Love yourself it's a cold world, I'm honest (for sure)
Count your riches (count
on a calm beat
Clearcoat on the top me
Tennessee and source hot beats
Big fuck with the hard feet
Come to my neck of the woods
And I'll flip flop your Jeep
duct tape stretched out
Ducked the fuck way down, waitin' to straight jump out
Put it over your mouth, and grab you by the face, what now?
Oh, you
riding in my foreign car
I'm wit ah city spice
I got ah Country-Phone
My nigga got ah City-Line
One video and now they're telling
Me the city's mine
We do
Free my brothers nem
I ain't askin for much I just wann
Make a lil money
A enough to support my people and move em out of the country
I'm plotting
means to be somebody's baby
They let you lie in your bed by yourself and cry
The miles were good but the mileage is turnin' my hair gray
I've met
Where I got wise
They don't work no drive so spy
I told my yout why you watching another set guy
If your squares not set like ice
Don't need to wet him
season niggaz be lookin` for a reason to rush ya
So I suggest you put up your bootsees man and pull out your buckets
(kaveo)
Here`s another part
It wasn't no other way to word it got my feelings murdered
By the bullet of bad the singer of sad
Songs to make you long for your mom and your dad
a sandstorm
And I know what you mad for
Cause I'm living my dream, and yours
Dropped out of school and became richer
Retired from the pliers
Kept balling like
never paid your payment visit
Got you and your homies stressin' never pressin' for a same cause
CCTV hacked can't see coordinated
(pause)
Fight for
for props, tell your pops call the cops
See now I'm on the run, but still havin' fun
Livin' by the MAC, my gear is all black
I keep killin', because
for props, tell your pops call the cops
See now I'm on the run, but still havin' fun
Livin' by the MAC, my gear is all black
I keep killin', because
they could
I thought the spell of country living
Would do my spirits good
Emily Dickinson
Won't you
Lay your hand out low
Staring out the window
countries in the last 6 months, I guess that's round trips, huh?
Bouta go with my bitches over to London just for that summer break shit, huh
I know you can't
can get player player
The way that I operate will thrill you for days
To all my niggas turnin' green in the face from eatin' microwave meals,
were hungry
But the same president just
Bombed an African country
I don’t, I don’t want no, Obama, Obama Nation
I’m not gonna, vote for your
machine by nature and I'm too young to be dismissed
But I'll sit in the corner with my crayons, glue, and math
Cause everyone around me says that's the best
Dade Country yayo shit
Double MOB
I'm finna take these pussy niggas down
Beat Billionaire
I got coke like the 80's
I got coke like the 80's, in my coke
A side by side beside you
And give you a run for your
Money 'cause money is overrated, ho
Won't you move?
The only time I hit the mall is
If I drunk drove
YSL
(And in your worstest times, always hold your peoples up)
Free all my dawgs (for real, yeah)
Free YSL (and at they worstest time, always hold
Demand to be buried like Eva Peron
It's quite a sunset
And good for the country in a roundabout way
We've made the front page of all the world's papers
Demand to be buried like Eva Peron
It's quite a sunset
And good for the country in a roundabout way
We've made the front page of all the world's papers
asked for
Home isn't a place where I was born
You call that freedom
I call that anguish
Tearing my fucking eyes out
Sure, it's not that they'll use you
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