Lyrics:
wrist
But I ain't that kinda play you can miss me
Rick James know I need her super freaky
Just call me when you want it, when you need me
I ain't nobody
need a fine one, top designer
Baby can you help find one?
A real one, not a phony, I wanna homie
Never leave me lonely, be my tenderoni
One hour
chasing you down like a running rat, just give up you just can't rap
We keep on working one day the fake shits go dropping out
My rhymes like James Ward
Uh
Let's pull the two-seater out, baby
It's wherever you wanna go
(J.U.S.T.I.C.E. League) Rozay
Ridin' to the music
This is how we do it, (all
Channing Frye, shoutout Mo Will
Mozgov I see you
T. Lue, I got a funny story man when I see you
Remind me to tell you
I'm gone, Mula baby
Ben B's
they lost
You know why? Cause ya'll been lied to
Google lied to you, Facebook lied to
You, Radio lied to you, radio fuck you!
I know it's a lot of
Real
everybody to my name again
(Woo)
Jessie, James, we don't play by the book
I might turn to Giovanni
How you Pokes gettin' took
Got me feelin' like I'm Brock
i spit it come get it
Its boiling, i go to Purdue
Not many people have seen what ive viewed
Not many know me the way that you do
Staying surrounded by
If I call would you ride, baby?
Need you right by my side, baby
Show 'em how to ride or die, baby
Hold me down, never lie, baby
If I call would you
I don’t really like where I’m at
Written and Composed by James Gardin
[Chorus: James Gardin]
I just want to be happy
I ‘m time of always feeling
yeah
My glock has ex-ten, yeah
You cannot spend what I spend, yeah
On my nigga got James, yeah
Woah
On my nigga got James, yeah
I need to go clean
long, Mr. DJ
Though times have changed,
It's still the same
We all need a minute to get away
So let it go and feel the flow
If you've got soul, let
gone
Smiles you used to dance and sing around
Now were replaced by frowns
And it was up to me to solve the mystery
And get back the disc jockey
I found
Bob's on the radio
I'm talking to the ghost of Stevie-Ray
Down by the windmill
And Mr Tambourine man stand up and sing a little
I don't care what
Sometimes I focus on the dough
Look at these bills I got
This is a message for some rappers trying to steal my spot
You niggas famous on the internet
I
Dress to kill by the grim reaper
Alumni snap, fuck Tisa
You niggas all dressed in fuck-season,
I walk thru the sand in these Lebron James South Beachers,
Parade
Written and composed by James Gardin
[Chorus: James Gardin]
She so captivating
Caught me gazing
Even when you throw it together
It look
Just like in the movies, clubbed from the back
I felt like a fool
(Man, you need to go back to private eye school)
I was the dunce of the day
There I
'm drunk as fuck right now
I'm in G O D mode right now
I'ma change my name to
Platinum baby
Cause I'ma keep shining
How you gone shade me
We turning up right
If I could break ya heart I’d be valentine
Niggas go rick James when they cross the line
Way before dat frame girl u been fine
Way before dat flame
a drive-by
Killed my nigga nem
We gon finished them
Finish blitzing them yeah
I just talked to James he up in heaven with the bros now
Walking thru a storm I
(no, no, no, no, no, baby)
I found someone (what?)
Who really deserves me
(I can't believe you'd do this to me, baby)
And he's all I need
I
Baby I don't need you but I want you so I got you
Got you by my side but things ain't going right
Happy when I see you but I need to keep it real
(yeah)
Pussy by himself, he's battlin' with his friends
Aww, you man are so insecure, man, it's a joke (man, it's a joke)
I need a Ballon D'or, 'cause
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