Search results for 'i just come home to count the memories by cal smith' Page #6

a flash, not a tik tok
Brother Cal shooting shots till his wrist lock

When the beat comes on, I do my ish
When the flow comes strong, I talk my spit
Lil'

me you can't
I promise you I'll show you that you can
Perception of my mind
I'm just going through it
Rolling through it
Quick
Let me start with my

Happy holidays
Let me come here and talk to you
I gotta stop sayin' I'm not doin' this shit no more knowin' I'm cappin'
(Great John on the beat by

Christmas
Surrounded by orange groves
Just off the 65; you could pass it and never know

Chorus
We’re going to Strathmore for Christmas
Where Dad and Mom call

Christmas
Surrounded by orange groves
Just off the 65; you could pass
It and never know


We're going to Strathmore for Christmas
Where Dad and Mom call home

mic a vasectomy
I only know one nigga that
Can come next to me no, that's a tattle
Cause I can't count my own shadow
A battle, I gots to have it
'lest

Royalty

Cam'ron

Code of the Streets, Vol. 1

2004

a brick back,
Now I'ma move it by day nigga six macks,
And ain't no runnin' off with yay shootin' big straps,
Forty cals, S.k's with no kick back,
Get

Delilah 
cll act the same like Mr Smith an crawled in side ya 
Dodge those bullets feel no pain cos i am Neo not the same
Bullet train the flow i'm spitting

even mind because to I keep to myself
No reason to complain, it's just the hand that I'm dealt
See time pulled by the seams
Recollecting memories
Like it

(Lloyd Banks)
By the way, man, it still feels like I've been dreamin'
Forty cal under my pillow, condom full of my semen
The physical presence

Outy When I Drive/Blamed

Chris Brown

Indigo [Extended]

2019

I got bitches in my coupe (huh)
Me and Breezy, fifty hoes, by the group (by the group)
That's yo' bitch, she told a lie, ain't told the truth, ooh

ya Im by my solo
Ya that's why I count my blessings
Ya that's why I count my blessings
Sit back, I count my blessings
Ya I count my blessings

create
Boy, I'm actually great
Homie, I used to stash cracks by the gate
(aaahh) the couple stacks I would make with
The MAC on my waist
I could send

out

Life hear me out

Bad yellow bone

I eat it beat it out

We made a thousand movies

On a thousand count

She a gangsta broad

Wit a crazy mouth

I

wasn't wrong
You just couldn't accept what the truth was
Baby out there it's so cold without you
All over my skin I count
In every spot a memory left

just count my blessings
Count my blessings count count my blessings
And my family super straight so you know I ain't stressing
Know I ain't stressing no

Fly, inside, Star City is my home just come inside
Dead dreams came to be alive
All these bad memories I tried to set aside
Fly, inside, Star City is

I Was Young When I Left Home

Bob Dylan

The Genuine Bootleg Series

1996

wrote a letter to my home.

It was just the other day
I was drinkin' on my pay
When I met an old friend I used to know.
He said your mother's dead

plan
Ask me where I come from
I'll say a different land
But I've got memories and travel like gypsies in the night

I count gates and numbers
Then

a long time
They say thank you for the memories but I say the pleasure is all mine
The pleasure is all mine yeah
The pleasure is all mine yeah
Friends like

the norm
I'm gonna take the world by storm, just give this one listen more
If you ain't pick up what I said, you ain't really about it
This ain't slinging

nobody I count up my loaf
She just be all in the cut she wants it all in her guts
35 payed for a cut
Give her 25 told her stop at the quarter
Catch me in

I'm rapping like a Wesson if you went and put the smith in it
A bottomless 11, so I'll never stop spitting it
A Mac 10 with the clip long
50 cal, you

Christmas TV

Slow Club

Yeah, So?

2009

on home
Just come on home
Just come on home
Just come on home
Just come on home
Just come on home
Just come on home
Just come on home
One, two,