Lyrics:
lyricism,
To date, only a few been able to translate
Who can?!
Already named a few of them,
But don’t feel stupid, you’re not alone,
Ill break it out for
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
on the porch
Waits for you to come home
Little does he know
That you won't
Be walking through that door
I just leave him alone
'Cause letting go don't come
the history of music
By night, just to pay for that shit, you'd dance
To get your pants was a mission impossible
We were both the same age but I
Suppose
Saturdays for you to see
What yo life can truly be
Saturdays for you to see
What yo life can truly be
Saturdays for you to see
What yo life can truly
didn't do diddly, dead it
Did it with dignity
You dilly dally and diss from
Distance dig it I disagree
You did it for digit's
Dickhead dummy I do it
I'll be there in the mornin'
Can't you see I'm tellin' stories
My sweet angel's everlasting true love ways
I'll wait I sow the seed
I set
Losing all the love for daily things
Even kicking 'round with the ball on my feet
I used to love as a kid
The truth is I think I'm as numb as you get
, wait, know what, matter fact
I don’t know what you’re waitin' for
I ain't finna say nothin' turn the bass
Up more til the speakers pop
I get a kick outta
well, well, that'll be five eighty two"
I turn around to my wife, and say
How much have you got on you?
She just rolls her eyes and says
"I'll pay for
no Joe Biden
It's only up from here
I just had to tighten
N**** I gave you a stipend
Tariq motion for I had my license
I'll be okay man I'm fond
You deal the cards and I'll shuffle the deck
Full force, my Fort
Stay ready on test, on edge
Aim steady, perform without miss
Fight over flight
Red over
make this cream
Member Wavey Joe fuckin up the radio
I took Scouse grime to them niggas and that's all on me
I'm the one they're gonna call on g
U
to splurge on effects and reverb
Once that cue system shit hit them ears your brain's gonna curve
Drop the mister two inch, half inch for any edits
Radio
Your maintenance man, you wait ‘til ten to call me up
Spontaneous, I'll race right in,
Not blowing smoke like
Vaping pens you'll make a friend with
you
And you my puppet, you my Cousin Skeeter
This ain't what you wanted, they been waiting for it
I'm Joyner Lucas, what the fuck you niggas take me
want make love to my #1 fan
to keep it real i'll be your #1 man
will it be you oo oo, is it you oo oo
will it be you oo oo, is it you oo oo
i want
to make it
I'll never be on the radio station. There is no fan base. Let's face it
Even if I shove it in your face, you wouldn't play this
You might listen
we're here for, so take those off"
By now she's butt-naked, I'm ready to break it
Threw on the jim hat, I'm ready for trim, and all that
So I did it
prison release
Nah can't wait call up Kevin Spacey
Gave me a drink now my mind's gone hazy
Yo yo yo je m'appelle Joe, wo xi huan ting na ge radio
Don't
Things that make you go, hmm
I was in the crib, sittin' by the fireplace
Drinkin' cocoa on the bear skin rug
The door bell rang, who could it
Things that make you go, hmm
I was in the crib, sittin' by the fireplace
Drinkin' cocoa on the bear skin rug
The door bell rang, who could it
ditches
Oh you don't believe 'em? Ever seen Joe Pesci at the end of Casino?
Oh, they take pride in that, no sympathy for nobody who ain't in line
Catch
average joe
Stop callin me a bloke
Pullin back shots like I'm tightenin a Bow
You know about workin for nothing
Workin everyday tryna be Something
In
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