Lyrics:
grabbin' it by the fist
Shit, I ain't Rick James
But I'm just sayin'
"I'm rich bitch"
Cold coke slang
Got the mother fucking Caine
Running through my veins
May but the sun coming up early as fuck like it's summer solstice
See the dawn approaching on the way home
Old flame if such a thing exists for me
I
Take a walk with me down by Avalon
Oh, my common one with the coat so old
And the light in her head.
And the sufferin' so fine
Take a walk with me
young nigga Ima be greater, wanna have grey hairs when I meet my maker
Old flame old game Sega, tellin all them lies that'll turn you to a stranger, suck
I'll take myself a walk around the block.
Till she comes back to dance the Castle Rock.
(Go get em, Harry [James], for old time's sake)
I'm mad
Street
The people we all meet, living on James Street
When I'm alone or I'm far away
I think of the things we did yesterday
In the back of my mind I can
silent when your joy fills my heart
Included and chosen and sealed by your mark
Forever telling your story
My flame burns for you only
The light that keeps
because he has money
Allow the Lord to help you
It's not by my might, but by the Spirit of God
No matter what the problem is
You gotta pray more, you gotta
Drego Yoga Fire flame
Bitch ain't smoking on that same shit
Nigga got gas
Nigga got gas 64 hot flame
Nigga got gas 64 hot flame
See the Leo in my eyes
At the age of Christ
Then your story is just getting old
You can see leather-jacket-James
And Jimi, fan the flames
Their posters will always look younger
Ah,
Yeah I bought that bitch a temple
She keep up with the tempo
The way she up on me
Got me feeling like a damn hoe
Harry Potter with the damn cloak
I
Baby you know I stay poppin
Flames on my head Dennis Rodman
One of a kind I ain't common
Baby she like me I'm Poppin
Baby she like me I'm Poppin
of
iambs marching. Who said that? Who is in this dark room with me?
Who is standing by my side? Whispering in my ear?
Breathing on my neck? Giggling? Who is
everybody to my name again
(Woo)
Jessie, James, we don't play by the book
I might turn to Giovanni
How you Pokes gettin' took
Got me feelin' like I'm Brock
to swallow reaching out for my water bottle
Trying to figure what nigga, why, and by who then
Before you know it the other voice told it
It was homie from
smelled like french perfume and gin
Though the flames were hot...
Now everybody was out at the girl's hotel by the time the roof caved in
We were headin'
but I don't mind
Cos she's my
Cos she's my
Cos she's my girl
She says she likes James Dean
She said she loves rock 'n' roll
She loves those old movies
all in
I see no competition Lebron James
Whenever it was an issue the mob came
Got the juice be with Bishop like Mob James
Keep the shades on my bitch
to biz, you know I'm a diss them fast
So play like 98.7 and kiss my ass!
Cause me and rap is like peanut butter and jelly
Which reminds me of a song by
And the passion's gone by
And I feel my soul grow
I can't do this no more
Baby, you're my, my
Baby, baby
Oh baby
I thought y'all niggas knew
Your bitch wore down
throwing fits bitch I'm worried about my profits
Surrounded by fake peeps I need space to fuckin breath
I ain't shaking hands unless we talking business
She made, a final wish
That made my blood run cold
Wanted to go on her own terms
Awash in love's throes
Said I'd rather die by you
In our passion so
Hello, hello
Today we'll be doing a reading of
The Gift of the Magi, which was published by O. Henry
In the December of 1905
The Gift of the Magi
time no hear, man, what's up?
[James A. Smith]
Say man
People been kicking around a lot of hoe shit in my ears
[Too Black Records representative]
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