Lyrics:
Solo grabbing that baretta
He'll solve em
Don't know why you running through my city
Man, you ain't fit
Just worried, when you around
I got a bullet with
Batman's Theme?
Didn't you get scammed by 645ar, then finesse the feature anyway?
Ain't you the one who made a couple hundred off streams?
Shoutout
M-E-L-O-D-I-E on the mic check
Well I'm up in your face like the wind from a blizzard
Got my wrap around your throat, like you're chokin on a gizzard
If
buy it
So who putting who on
Came from coupons and four room walls
To hashtag #FoodPorn
In five star restaurants from Europe
It ain't a new song
But
Paperville Avenue
Menace made propeller
Madness melodies prepared by Donny
Making mental notes perfected by yours truly
Truthfully this gotta be
Something said
a crack dealer
The ones who raised me were protected by a crack dealer
In front my granny face when he got smacked zilla
Ever since I could remember I been
a strap with a laser
'Cause I'm famous but I’m still a raver
See the girls see me in the club they’re like
He ain't got one bottle of champagne
(champagne)
had to learn that you couldn't teach me
Perfect dad but you could've been a better father
But then again from day one you ain't have to bother
I always
stepping to the beat, like I ain't got no rhythm
Don't wanna pop out
I was on the block with a stolen glock I heard shots ring out
I was traumatized by that
back to what I was feeling
Bitch, you was runnin' from feelings
Ain't nobody here to heal you!
Talk that talk, Got damn that shit is hard!
Ha ha ha
wan' throw a pack on him
No hustlers they ain't tryna be 'round
No muscle, he ain't even got a gun on him
Got 'em like, "Why the fuck he even standin'
What's going on?
What's going on?
You know
Had a covo with the weather man
He said
"Weather and humans ain't so different, man"
Confusing
He said "you
teach you how to put soul in your rhythm
You ain't been home in a minute feels like part of me been missing
We are whole don't forget it teach you how
in Paperville Avenue
Menace made propella madness melodies prepared by Donny
Making mental notes perfected by yours truly
Truthfully this gotta be
running is they mouth
Well we runnin up your house, taking over
Everything
Every avenue and angle y’all ain’t fucking with me
Or coming close I’m sorry I’m
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
fucking like em
And if it's beef my homies count on me
I'm fucking riding
My niggas creepin ain't so sweet
We probably fucking dying
Ask him where he from
by running the town, ain’t dumbing it down
When I’m coming around, the one with the crown and I’m busting it wild from under the ground
While faster
come and get down, bust it, come on
Check it out, secondly
it's me the BROther ?uest from the S-Q-T (Square Roots)
And he's Black Thought, the boy
Bobby only 22
Rollin down the Avenue
Head always full of steam
Plotting on his next move
Little did he know about the situation overview that he
got that God girl type of vibe on me
I ain't never gotta worry about a thing cause I'm in his hands
And he always looks out for me he keeps me in his
City and Eastside bishops got it goin' on.
With the M.G.'s, Queen street, V.N.G's ain't no stoppin' the
Village town, Eastside pain, Crenshaw mafia.
straight need more Bacardi
My toko chilled he got it twisted take flight we at the party
South West One Call away
See I don’t care what they really say
Slow
judging, but bugging, how we fall so many levels?
The devil's got us by the balls
That's why the law allows the drugs to overflood
Knowing we gonna buy it
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