Lyrics:
I’m calling her Harley
My music hits hard cause its right on the tempo
Give me 2 years and I’ll live in a temple
Sharpen your knife, bitch I sharpen my
a fuck, fools better duck
39 deep in the back of Wino's truck
Like robbin' in the paint, fool think I ain't?
Your crew is on stank, that's why I'm
see me
Feel me, or walk a mile in my shoes
No blueprint, but I'm Sherlocking the clues
I could paint a vivid picture
While birdboxing with hues
Then
all go away?
Brushed aside or pushed aside?
A difference in tension,
Intention and force applied.
Cast aside or passing by
People as canvases:
Small hands
Were caught in the act
She'd paint
All the pain from her back
Fingertips
Soft felt like the brush
Such contrast
To her father's rough
(Guami going stupid, Taylor)
White Margielas with the red spray paint
Looks like Andrew WK
Receipt like a 12th grade essay
Hard worker, I deserve me
to feel love
If she can't see me
Now I gotta paint
All my murals in 3d
First I make getting
Where am at look easy
Then we gotta jet overseas
Just
that will be the same place you lay at
We been sipping drank by the pint since way back
We been candy paint on them 4s since they made that
Hop up in my
One day, I'ma love myself
I'm not gonna hate who I see in the mirror
I'ma see more than a liar, a sinner
I'm not gonna be the way you paint me
One
see a couple questions
How the fuck you get shot in your foot, don't hit no bones or tendons?
How the fuck your team is tryna paint me as some whole
on the run
She’s don’t wanna keep on playing the game
She don’t wanna paint it on every day
But what if they knew her smile was fake?
& deep down in she
in a Mug?
The hot pot it screams as I tug in the mug
What's hard is you'll not receive any one from above
And so my heart don't pump, it bleeds for
that facades will fade and the pain will stay
Lost in Gotham I'm going crazy I'm Harvey Dent
I let the coin have my psyche and now it's hard to mend
They
coming in so thick
Them niggas call it hard bread dough
I'm in this all red four seater, I'm leaning like the '06 fours
I said I'd stop freestyling but
While at the bar, got drank by the jug
In the v.i.p with the chicks and the drugs
It's the T.I.P, Bun-B and Slim Thug
We goin' hard in the paint like
Hello how u doing yea excuse me li mama
I’m attracted yea i like your lil drama
Tryna be your big poppa
Really wanna kiss u by my locker
Hard up in
Bitch
I'ma pop this cap
Followed up by fuckin' dabs
New dimension, leveled plain
Got me feel like Morty man
All I see is works of art
Beauty in
never sees the finish it was never round
Time rolls on by one love for you and I it's all just a memory
Now you rest in peace where you rest in peace I
said this before in this same interview
I think, my, my job is to somehow make them curious enough
Or persuade them by hook or crook
To get more aware
me out here on my Randall, fuck it
If I'ma lead, I'ma do it by example
But it's sorta hard to follow, like your GPS got scrambled
Everything I make it
Glides and Road Kings
Deep in my hindsight
You do it right or don't do it at all
Put that candy paint on it
Ride them twenty-threes homie
Custom seats,
Everyone of my doggs, where my dickies in The Source
Come here girl, lemme get you this
This one Rick try to get you rich
Candy paint on my six-six (six),
My feelings they fade away just like they Kobe
I'm still goin' hard in the paint
I'm stackin' it,cash, I don't care what you think
Put some in my
back
I trap by day, boy, rap by night
C-Bone in this bitch, College Park trump tight
Do you really wanna know about some gangsta shit?
Do you
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