Lyrics:
transmitted, get it, done the Ruthless way,
You know what I'm saying, so what's up Dre
(Dr. Dre)
Now I'm a swinger, I'm not a muthafuking singer
But I
killin' these bitches)
Yeah, now imagine a group of little girls nine through twelve
On the internet watchin' videos listenin' to songs by themselves
a group of little girls nine through twelve
On the internet watchin' videos listenin' to songs by themselves
It doesn't really matter if they have parental
country-okie singer
That girl, she's a walk on the wild slide,
She's a day glow radio slow ride, low ride good time
If you see her, tell 'er I'm
Lookin' for
it
I'm the only singer that seems to preach it
Let's write something new
Here's to you
A different kind of country song
We're gonna get hurt
Gonna get
to cry all night
Trying to make a song fit
When you know it never was right
I said, "Girl, get up and get out of this mess"
You're gonna be
everything
Tell me why, tell me when
Make your soup, taste this bread
Can I have your life instead
I'm the singer, I'm the song
Give it up, give it up
beliefs. A few songs down, I'm wearied and I recant.
And the singer's soft-spoken, still cunning but empty. It's enough to be hurt, a thumb in the wound. I
niggas couldn't stick it
Forget it, you regret you ever stepped to this man, so bet
I recollect, a-mic-checka 1-2 and what you're thinkin'?
I want
to cry all night
Trying to make a song fit
When you know it never was right
I said, "Girl, get up and get out of this mess"
You're gonna be
to school
We starting hanging like Ernie and Bert
And in my idle head I'm thinking cool
Just when I'm thinking I'm going down your shirt
You're hiking up
numbered by states lines, education
And I cannot write a damn song for my life, situations, and relations
I'm dried up as hell, finish this song and I'm
parties
But I couldn't find the time
To draw a portrait
So if you're the merciful god
Of songs and their singers
Then let me be the cold
If you'll be
steppin', they keep throwin' me shit
I don't preach no tricks, don't talk politics
I'm just a casual singer holding my stones and my sticks
If I got
take that back)
Just shave it all off
You're just another girl now with a song
(Really, chill out)
And I'm just another sad man in LA
(Don't say that
Look man, yeah you're all played out
The carbon in the air, don't breathe too much, it'll knock you out
I keep a stack like it's sixty-four, I'm filled
I'm never gonna change (never gonna change)
When the singer Rob calls the police on me
Y'all niggaz ran out and copped the CD
See what I
I'm never gonna change (never gonna change)
When the singer Rob calls the police on me
Y'all niggaz ran out and copped the CD
See what I
kickin love songs you can keep
Give me the boom bap when I kick my rap
No need for background singers and dancers, fuck all that
What you see you see,
happened so quickly, so quick, by surprise
Right there in front of everyone's eyes
Greatest magic trick ever under the sun
Perfectly executed, skillfully
on the drive home, surely this experience explains something about whoever it was that sang all these songs.
When you're younger every single thing vibrates
know me
I love what i love
You're the one, i can prove it
(Saint Yowzha Verse)
Sudah skian kali kau tanya kapan aku kembali
Kapan kita bertemu,kapan
to the up and coming singer/ songwriter
Putting a beat now that even drops all the haters
Where are you now
Somewhere on your couch
Dancing by yourself
While
daughter, I be worried 'bout Kim
But Saint is baby Ye, I ain't worried 'bout him
I had my life threatened by best friends who had selfish intents
What I'm
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