Lyrics:
the po-po's, I'm not turnin it down"
I love to floss as I toss up a fifth of that Crown
Bank corner after corners, watch all the ho's smile
[Chorus 3.5X]
The Ghost of Christmas Past.
Snow is falling down
Covering my ground
Like a brand new page
For me to tell a story
About another time
Not so long ago
I
Cadillac Break Down, It's Too Much
I Will Shock Your Mind In A New Star Stutz
And If A Stutz Break Down, I Make Another Choice
I Will Dull My Grill In A New
up and down everytime you swing my door
I got my rims finger fucked
By a god dam j
Gave him 1.8
Of some hard ass yay
It's a lot of crack smokers
pollinated by the "Be"
Pac called it the rose that rose from concrete
How do you define divine that finds street?
"Hip bop," the color of my leaves
Not
thinkin about 9
Im thinkin bout 18
Man its my time
To pop up on the scene
And show my fuckin neckless
Come down the boulevard, straight up wreck it
In
A bead of sweat runs down my back as
The words rattle around in my head
"It's time we don't forget" as if
We've ever been given a chance
As our city's
Stanley knew this room was
Not the proper choice
But he sat down and ignored his inner voice
This whole "story" thing was
Something Stanley couldn't
SFX: footsteps, Knox exits, door closes…
(Time: 3:52 — Versus: 29 | Word count: 473
232 seconds = 2.03 words per sec | 122 words per minute
—————————
Mediocres yall could never amuse me
In my circle we don’t fuck with no loose lip
Smokin herbal in the stu makin music
Play you like a string, call it acoustic
Tattoos
Man some people fade away
I just take it day by day
And hope my friends don't waste away
I don't wanna lose my people right now
That's every
know why these man are
Messing with the team
When not even Rooney would risk it
You'll still see me
I go forward right by 3 3 3
I'm Jamie, don't watch J
"but it ain't really
Time to get married yet we're
Still learning each other
Feeling each other out" Not that it
Matters: the story has been
Printed
the proof is in the hoofers
And banging the bumpers and bumping up boosters
Move fast not too foolish, my vibe is acoustic
Melodics, melodics keep flowing
I don't do normal gigs
I do awkward gigs
I do Yorkshire gigs
You can guarantee that it's not my sort of shit
But I still drag myself up out of my
brass band of gratitude
Not quite dormant in my belly
It said so in a human voice
"Bellow forth"
And who among us could ignore such odd
And precise
And it real east side now
Know I'm saying I'm talkin' bout 3-5
Not a .35 but 3-5 (Yeah)
See what I'm saying
Ain't been dipping my hands in the rosary
It came from my wise, dear old dad
He said, "Sit down, punk, I want to talk to you
And don't say a word until I'm through
Now there's a time
I got some killers so don't push me
Juicy J be on some mob shit
Waitin' by your door step hot in the bullshit
If it comes down to it ain't no thang
raise this generation
My respect to the mother's that be holdin' it down
But it sure would be nice to have my daddy around
[Verse 1:]
All I need is
I be wavy with the music
I ain't really gotta prove it
I'm a beast with the acoustics
See I'm the one, I make these rappers wanna run
My lyrics is
a Vicodin, splash, it hits my stomach, then, ah
Couple of weeks go by, it ain't even like I'm gettin' high
Now I need it just not to feel sick, yeah, I'm
your outback friends will play
Three wide steps take you to the top, where you are greeted by a bright yellow door
Bursting with character
a spotlight
Bitch, it's 2020, we do not fight
Free my dog out that jam, he just got right
And I told bro, don't never be slippin'
Cause niggas is trippin'
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