Lyrics:
Man Have Girl Got Some Pussycats
My Hair Is Brown And I Ain't Gotta
Fuck I Just Coming For The Brown
Don't Be Try To Check Me Cuz
My Mans On The Phone
it and heard what they telling
Come out to be true man I had hella faith
Same foot different shoe I'm surrounded by snakes
Wouldn't do it to you I
dismissed, just copped a new benz
This shit got four doors, its me and my niggas just me and my bros
We countin' up bands, we count em by fours
I hear someone
it by my lonely
CB4 gangsters man they so gusto
24/7 all I do is hustle
Old folks in the hood call me p man
Double cups Styrofoam I sip lean man
Chris Paul with the assist
After whipping it like a Prius
My innings she caught like I threw out a pitch
Tryna swim in a pool full of money
Got me feeling
to do,
one look and I find myself in love with you
Miss Alayna so why no man can contain ya
Strum my guitar; keep her hot like a cradle
And I, don't know
a sip
Warn take advice of me like I'm deno
We be getting points just like a free throw
Look at my money green like a silo
Takin trips down to Puerto
opposite
Let’s go
What we gonna do in 22
Lockdown looking dumb in 21
Mass plandemic you and your man gimmicks
So everybody hates Chris and Akademiks
Uh
CHILD WATERS
I warn you all you ladies fair that do wear red and brown
That you don't leave your father's house to run with a boy from town
For here
way
So many things we said,so many false statements about me against my manger Chris.
Sometimes I just feel like giving up.
Like I was nothing
I got me a queenie she got long brown curly hair
She likes to drink old grandad and her shoes do shuffle around
And every time I see that gal
Lord
an old
Bishop though celibate, begob
Me luck might be in and tonight I might sin
Though last week I was just at confession
But who gives a damn
Sure would
Take time to shine like this
Water on my neck and then it's ice up on my wrist
Everybody hate me so I'm ridin' like I'm Chris
I be actin' crazy when
like I'm Cleveland
I feel like Chris Tucker did when he was speeding
Gave her a dose now she don't want to leave
Weed and this Hennessey all that I need
Stone.. just by lookin at my chain I know you blinded by the twinkle I bring the icing on the cake with the Vvs sprinkles, see my bracelet like the yellow
untouched by the man
Songs we used to sing used to mean something
Now they just bland like the drummer
Where's the real drummer? Michael B.
Mint
on demand
Tryna run that check up tryna get them bands
That bitch is my fan, I am not your man
I don't know these bitches
They just want my sand
Blow up
Ain't no way
Ha, I like this lil beat
(Chris Feed)
My type, look
(Shawty why you searching its right here)
Aye turn me up a lil bit
Shawty why you
criminals! I've got to put you straight
just like I did with my old man twenty years too late.
Your bread and water's going cold.
Your hair is too short
post
It's Just a flash in a tiny attention span
Music is chewed up like fast food and spewed out
Like I'm new with a menu plan
I can't hear shit
an hourglass
It's only a matter of time for the storm to pass by
Til we burn their cash
And rise from the ash
Sound waves the boat goes down like a submarine
Off
just some dogs
[Method Man]
By any means necessary, it's on
B****, your f***ing with a dog, all I want to do is bury some bones
Take a piss
to snap, Ali hold me back
Got me feelin' heated like a baby in the backseat
Running like I mixed a little Gatorade with crack
At a track meet thwarted by
Ha ha ha haa
Brothers and sisters we're gathered here today
To listen to a young man that's on fiiya
You sittin in the church wit reverend charlie
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