Lyrics:
yelling YOLO was a lie
And you a liar wonder why you wanna die so young
You and I look just alike
And I'm afraid that this one right here
Might be last time
better watch out, you might get hit
Silly little creature, Sikamikanico
Sittin' on a bleature, Sikamikanico
I don't want a teacher, Sikamikanico
If
don’t really know us shorty, we too live
I be smooth Billie D. with the Colt .45 (2x)
[Verse 2: Frank Knight]
So you a killer riding for the scrilla
no diet
Bullets knock off his brim we ain't running come try it
No we ain't hiding you ain't taking nada
Let me keep it frank chop sing like Sinatra
the Boulevard
I'm a hip-hop gangster and my name is Todd
Just stimulated by the beat, bust out the rhyme
Get fresh batteries if it won't rewind
Cause I play
Fifty Grand
Kick beats like Van Damme
That fighting ass nigga? Yes, it's the B
I break with the bonus
Bumrush bums and bitch-ass opponents
Bucks plug out
the change out my couch again?
Get some new teeth & some calcium
I got a falcon friend
Who sit on my glove
You got a malcontent parrot
Shit on the rug,
you show, my nigga
Where your soul my nigga? Goddamn
One life to live just don't settle
One life I'ma live forever
Stand for something, fall for
with four of her friends nigga plus me
Pull out dick then i bust on her but cheeks
She see my neck get her wet it's a tuff piece
Aye it cost to live like
seem old fashioned to some of you, but I'd like to join in on this song. it's the kind of a sentimental song that you get at the end of a movie. it's
style (Chop chop chop nigga)
Got the ship right by building up the core now
Shit, to put it frank I can take a world tour now (Suuuuuper!)
From
I've been spinning now for time
Couple women by my side
I got sinning on my mind
Sipping on red wine
I've been sitting here for ages
Ripping out
chat to mi hard, mi kick him ass out
Mi only want him fi him dang a lang
Mi just want him fi him dang a lang
I mean you know, you know
You gotta
(Bobby Soxer)
Do the D-A-N-C-E, one, two, three, four
Fight
Stick to the B-E-A T, get ready to ignite
You were such a P-Y T
Catching all the lights
the button, they tryin' to snooze
Yeah, sixteen out of sixteen bars, I spit are thrillers
Eight out of sixteen bars, you spit are fillers
And I got these
[Verse 1: Frank Knight]
It’s that young project baby who been live from the jects
A young thorough bred about his bread with no need to flex
With
Turn meat to minces, jumps turn to flinches
When I rain I drenches, cleared your park benches (HAH)
Missed you by pinches (HOO) your talk is senseless
Turn meat to minces, jumps turn to flinches
When I rain I drenches, cleared your park benches (HAH)
Missed you by pinches (HOO) your talk is senseless
I'm walking up you be tucking your chain
We out for blood I be making it rain
Keep talking shit you'll get hit with the blade
Pick up a brick I ain't
the issue I don’t have time to kick it like it jutsu
I’m just painting pretty real pictures with niggas telling you what you get into
What we done been
Tryna kick somethin’ groovy
I curse like a pirate and
Get all of the boody, forreal
I be posted down in panama
I might take a dick pick panorama bruh
I
know, when we get together we're always grooving
To You Know I'm No Good by Amy and you prove it
That, "hello," was just an introduction to those two lips
system an that bud N****
I like grindin for my mula
When I get it out the mud n****
N**** out here envy
Is the reason why I duck n*****
How yu suckas think
bout to feel the wrath of a menace
Sucka, I hit em' up
Yeah, straight out on the Bad Boy camp
You know how we do it
All my real homeboys in
New York
.jpg/228px-Frank_Sinatra_(1957_studio_portrait_close-up).jpg "Frank Sinatra")
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