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yeah) Got like forty racks stuffed inside of my jeans It don't cost jack, get you whacked for free I don't eat steak, but I'm ready for beef Told you
you said Might find a slipknot 'round my neck I thought you something sweet But you're a sour piece of shit instead She loves when I'm hittin' from
a beast inside my brain on a chain I can finally tame, Rearranging everything that I was taught to be a great Motivated by the thought of my daughter
a butter knife! Ha ha ha ha! Get ready for the king, here I come Now check this out Sour smelling Sue got so much dirt in her ear That she can grow
And rather live the life of crime With my Bed-Stuy connection connected in two It's live Boo start shit too wild for you Peace to, Baisley, Forty-P get down
I'm a, a, a rolling stone (oh, oh) And, and, and I keep turning (oh, oh) You can try and hold on (oh, oh) Ma-ma-maybe you should learn You should
I'm just tryna' get my fix Dopamine, dopamine That I'm on, that I want I'm just tryna' get my fix Dopamine, dopamine See dopamine is what your
to grow old By the time I Saw inside of you I was almost gone The knife was through Where there used to be one heart I felt mine fall in two And you became
around or you can get high Tryna heal the pain inside You can ride around on a rollercoaster If it helps you heal inside No man judge who's in the mirror
fuck your wristwatch Pause, let it stop, hope we get by Bye when I zoom, let it vroom 'Bout a hundred goons with a fume, better let it [?] A hundred
Can't you feel by how I'm linked in? (Ooh ah ah ah) once I get that twitch That's how you tell that I been drinkin' Think I fucked a lot of wives, the Way
you ask me to lend a hand then I send two You even look at us wrong things gon' get complex dude I can kick an ass, don't make me scuff my dress shoe If
(Aight Matt) (Two choices) (Stay inside) (With nothing to do) (Or go outside) (And possibly die) (Yo life is hard bro) Aight I'm laying
Chained To What He Loves Most Cast Away Under Pale Skies, Let's Get Inside Hey Baby Your Temple Or Mine Untethered, Unbound State Of Grace Sold By The Pound
Got you counting from on to ten And by the time you get up to nine, your ass is left behind Cause you can't mess with the lyrical master rhymes Send
show two colors, that’s mixxy matching I be wit’ scammers they fuck wit’ Da Breash & I fuck wit’ em too cause it’s gets me fashions You got a bank
be elusive Sweet not sour Manna come thru like this my hour Flying high man come like tower And if Eiffel then it all turn sour Yeah we ball I'm
Bitch, I pop Percs I don't fuck with the powder Niggas gon' turn on you when it get sour I'm in my prime at the top of my power She wants some rounds, now
lining Double breasted, bullet proof vested, well protected The heart, the rib cage, the chest and solar plexus Casting stones, cracking two
lining Double breasted, bullet proof vested, well protected The heart, the rib cage, the chest and solar plexus Casting stones, cracking two
I don't fuck with these new guys I could out rap these niggas in two lines Imma get it and flip it a few times Suavebaby the man and they know it Said
Whatever the case, we'll get it done Read that in Leadership 101 BcTBcRIcN! Testament of Primordials Two rude goons never ever been cordial Bats at our side
stone withstands the waves Let's get inside Narcissus soaking wet lost but doesn't know it yet He has failed to see his true reality Now he will
a whole, eighth insides Grabba leaf Every day I wake up thinkin' Who am I gon' smack today? Smacked him with some flour He got sour in some type of way. Did
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