Lyrics:
the coupe fighting headwinds
Fire burning sage bringing blessings
Land by the water for my residence
I'm a product of the elements
I'm standing in the coupe
cope
Need they laundry clean
Keep picking up the wrong soap
Life full of speed, slowed down by dope
So they run to them streets, and to the pole
Either
King but after takin orders
I used to take the path to Latin Quarters across the waters
Where I learned to do the Who, yo, I couldn't stop
I brought
a bus, nigga
Mionetto, the Chef is on ill levels
Be the custom ill bezel, we get down
All the hills meddle
Real rebels that run through the real ghettos
Cretins swiftly tippy toe on hard to swallow, barter concepts
The give-it get-it, never let it self pass the word, eyeing stubbornness
Martyrs talks money
the vehicles
Their hatred built
Fueled by the sweat and blood
Gotcha hand on the hilt
Playin' pinball, won't tilt
Electric shock, give a jolt
If shit goes down
you di hungry
Say a prayer to papa God
E go answer eh
Everything go be alright
Ve vi bani kuyiadze
Don't let them put you down
Dey go di put you
Him back, he's been replaced
We're the gangstas, the hustlers, we run this fuckin' town
Jesus tried to step up, but we shut his ass down (Fuck Jesus
street fam, twitter team
Like you could fuck with me
Oh did it seem, Dr King and Def Jam ain't the only ones with a dream
I'm a grown ass man, this
street fam, twitter team
Like you could fuck with me
Oh did it seem, Dr King and Def Jam ain't the only ones with a dream
I'm a grown ass man, this
is the need for water damage warranties
Let me be Claire, Deerling could run a track better in heels
Following Cyrus' lead, your World is far from
back
Now his name is Stucky Mack, tryin to fuck a black
In fact I got the 411, so you can buy a gun
Lench Mob's got the devil on the run, down with King
With voodoo mango
Shampoo sensing
Himalayan salt by Sherpa Tenzing
Pouring gallons of water with aroma tensing
Our motor's out of fuel It's running
live in denial (fuck)
So many verses, I never run out, what?
You making him nervous, the music is loud
Hoe, Jay Z Hall of Fame, sit your punk ass down
no dollars and bad karma
No pot to piss in just a Piston like Ben Wallace
Causing malice in ya palace test me in mid autumn
Will you run or Ron ima don
make her dance No Juicy
But I'm so fresh it look like they juiced me
F.L.Y. til I D.I.E.
Balling by my lonely in my own league
Run it like the Point
looking at me like its my fault
So far na smoke, we a go mould ah!
So far e high!- We pass it round-Ah
So far na Pounds- Young Don, break it down!
‘Fore she
a place of my hand bag
I was down on my face last year
Coz I had a few pricks
That would not give a hand back
Now I'm up and I'm on top gears
And them
people down in hell still want ice water
Now how you livin nigga? When hard times come
Can you stand prison nigga, or you gon' run yo' tongue?
What's that
the fuck you at? (Tical)
Let me hear you pigeons run ya mouth now (shut the fuck up)
I'm pluggin' in them social skills that keep my total bills
Over
the fuck you at? (Tical)
Let me hear you pigeons run ya mouth now (shut the fuck up)
I'm pluggin' in them social skills that keep my total bills
Over
the fuck you at? (Tical)
Let me hear you pigeons run ya mouth now (shut the fuck up)
I'm pluggin' in them social skills that keep my total bills
Over
the water
Cause this is Black December
Coming at you like a school of piranhas
So you should run
Or just prepare for the slaughter
Cause this is Black
deathbed
You gettin sonned by the son of the sun
You better run better run better run
Now you are just facin veteran
Triple the Escanor better rendition
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