Lyrics:
fellas, it's awfully cold here. I'm gonna see if I can find
myself a nice warm igloo. Try to get along without me, if you
possibly can, because I
're in Heaven with the angels surrounded by friendsBut, you might meet the Devil himselfYou gotta save your soul and I can helpIf you don't get right with
to hell
At int eighty, sorry for interrupting
But it's public so I figured it was up for discussion
I love you like a brother so we'll be forever fam
But
to complete his transition
He said, "Kimya
Did you know Eleventeen's my favorite song?"
I said "then get your ass on stage
Right now and you can sing along
I get along without you very well
Of course, I do
Except when soft rains fall
And drip from leaves then I recall
The thrill of being sheltered
infinite
No way I can imagine my life without you in it
With you by my side I can do it all
I can achieve anything, and even when I fall
You're there to lift
Especially a specialist
Man you know what the method is
3rd verse
Nigga I was California dreamin
Dreamin California
But ain't no parties in LA
Without
a hollow
Men don't steal
Hey most don't borrow
And if you smoke crack
Slick Rick
That's the motto
All I need is one mic
Yeah the custom model
If she ask just
I get along without you very well
Of course I do
Except when soft rains fall
And drip from leaves, then I recall
The thrill of being sheltered in you
you ever wanted its like ill be your cure you'll never hurt for nothing i know the moment seems very rare well its time to let down ya hair & gone get
want to us)
(And that we won't retaliate?)
Protect my motherfuckin' self, by any means necessary (right)
'Cause you don't know me, I don't know you
walking, as long as we're together
Listen to some music, maybe just talking, get to know you better
'Cause you know I've got
So much that I wanna do, when
the tales that I tell so well
(You finally get to have Too Short's bitch, trick)
this is a jack
Nigga make a move and that ass will get tapped
Because I'm loaded, I'm loaded off the dank weed
And jackin' you will get me high just
all a real song
Yeah
Let me get my key ahum
Well I'm looking through Harlem
My stomach squeal just a little more
A stagecoach full of feathers
on point and you can't never lack
Tdot died by the store that shit had me like what the fuck
Cause a few days ago I went to that store to get something
I
feel like a father, I'm sonning all ya
Guess this a reprimand you want the can
Sir? Get the smoke from the second hand
But wait, as an artist we
Really
to tell Ann
We'll be set up down here by the parking garage
At 9th and Grand
Oh say can you see?
I'm the pennywhistle tight-lip with an apple crumble heart
of trouble
But I don't want you to get discouraged by that, no
Because I believe that there's a solution to all of this
Deep down within my soul
All
a favor and get creative with the rumors that you circulating
Higher-ups are purpose-driven
That's why you could never make it
That's why when I call
without a doubt I'm comin' back and if you don't know
call me S. I. R. T. double O
I like to say these rhymes, I do it all the time
I make my own
on (come on)
I'm talking to you, come on the Working Hour
This is the working hour
We are paid by those who
Learn by our mistakes
This is the working hour
I hope you will like this very long song
I'm trying a new mic, hopefully someday you can sing-a-long
It's six-ty beats per minute, one beat per
think that we're so cool
And make the others drool
Walking like a chameleon
Turn around and turn me on and make that sound you do so well 'cause
I'm not
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