Lyrics:
And by the way, you rappin' Nigga's,
I don't like you neitha'.
I mean, "either," proper gramma',
Pop a camera, man on that rap, DVD propaganda.
Yeah,
more unless it's profits
Lord, why you keep boxing me in, 'cause I'm God's gift?
I might set my mic back up in the closet, though
Just to give myself
And by the way, you rappin' Nigga's,
I don't like you neitha'.
I mean, "either," proper gramma',
Pop a camera, man on that rap, DVD propaganda.
Yeah,
the last time I did this?) Hmm, not since our wedding shower
I got home and I was greeted by the fact we'd been deleted
I was someone that my wife
action
Uh yeah stay by myself cause these niggas be lame
I know that these pussy niggas gone hate
I told my momma that I'm gone be great
Drip is the real,
and I need permission? Somebody lied
We can tell by your lies what lies in your ways
You're a slave to your ways but I guess we all slave
Slave to our
prefer"
She asked me what am I driving, and how is my health
I know what you're really thinking baby, let me tell you
I can do bad by myself
I don't
looks at me without a sound.
And I shout out 'John please help me!'
But he does not even want to try to speak.
I'm helpless in my violent rage
John and Roc-a-wear sales
Is proof that my culture is alive and well
Cuz hip hop is not just back pack shit
Is why you rock baby phat and apple bottom
cure and the remedy
I hope you feeling me
Put on a show like a centerpiece
Smirk and wave just like John Kennedy
Bitch on my soul you not kin to me
Gotta
some gots to have it
Kill or be killed
Only time will reveal
I think by myself
And I drink by myself
From 9-8 until
Let me know it's real son if it's
on hiding just like E.T
Can't see me
Shadows standing up
So leave me
You don't need me
I'm fine by myself
If you tryna get some help
Don't hit me after 12
I'm gonna get some cereal
That'll make me feel better bout myself
I'm gonna get some cereal
That'll make me feel better bout myself
Gonna get, gonna
existing
Though surrounded only by bacteria an viruses
[The Angel: ]
How do you feel? Laa - la - laa, you were out of line!
[Machine: ]
What?
[The Angel: ]
shooter
I'm my own John Wick
I trap by myself just me and my stick
She don't even like me she in love with my dick
10 free bands but I need me some more
she's crying
She tells me of another great friend, he died
"If he can't make it" I think to myself, I spiral
Weeks go by, stuck, up my waist debt
figured that she was probably just lonely and she really didn't want me
And I thought to myself none of this matters now
It's not the family I dreamt
Of course I have new motivations for staying slim and georgous, you see I recently got married,
I hope that means you are wishing me well and not
we don't ever talk
Except for holidays and birthdays and that's by default
My mama told me not to blame myself, it ain't my fault
But if he goes and we
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
real, I know that shit be fake
I been staying to myself, fuck all them folks, I don't wanna hang
Nigga, I am not a slave
Even though, I might forgive you,
I found myself at the bottom again
Suffocated by the world overwhelmed by my sin
So I fell to my knees
Then you whispered this to me
You're
to myself
Writing all my thoughts that are all up on this paper
I guess I'm just a John Doe
I don't hear the bravo
Nobody cares
No one is aware
There's no
the painting i'm not trying
To regurgitate myself i'm a
Product person: not just clothing, but
Water bottle design, architecture
Anything you could think about!
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