Lyrics:
(Uhm, yeah)
I was a lost boy
I was a lost boy in my room
Out of the shadows
Out of the shadows in my room
Into the shadown
Into the shadow in
performance
By my man Wiz Khalifa, ya'll
So lock your doors and hide your hoes
Cause it's gonna go down
I remember them days
Rolling up, 'bout 25 of them J's
proper plan
That boy is rat take him to Disney land
I don't got no opps so I'm smoking on za
Them boys getting scared when we hop out the car
I bought me
[Rakim]
Me and the rap's laid back
Nonchalant and relaxed in the track
Put together well so it ain't hard to tell
Easy to recognize
of gettin' stacks
Makin' scratch the wrong way
What the song say
We murder motherfuckers daily
Blackout, blow the track out
My lyrics never fail me
I inhale
camera dingin,
Choppa by the doe
For any REASON he in here and he ain't shoppin
Let it me know
Earth Wind and Fire, live performance
Imma Let it blow
Ion
Yeah..
You motherfuckers oughta let me go and finish this motherfuckin album
Dr. Dooom..
Name of this track is called "I Don't Want
far from the binoculars
So, that smart money finna get that heat out the car
Yo, I'm K-Dot Lamar meets 2Pac Shakur
I got profiled by a few cops, too
tried to track me, I saw it they said that boy slippin'
Nigga tried to track me, I saw it they said that boy slippin'
Young nigga stickin' to the code,
the dust out the way
Then realize you wrong
Ain't nothing say
Impeaching after teach-ins
Cause ain't nothing a play
Leave ya performance piece
Back at home
was a, newcomer, turned out by Vera Wang
GiGi Hana, mesmerized by my slang
I pop my collar one time (one time)
Got control of yo' mind (mind)
Never
from your performance
Need to
Step back
Look back at your course
Need to
Be on track to compliment the source
Need to
Walk that talk or
Talks get stocked
angelicus)
UNCLE WALTER:
The clergyman’s pastoral pager loudly― uh, loudly― uh, uh loudly rang out, echoing through the vacant YMCA halls.
FATHER BILL:
By
by the truth so I state the facts God in the picture so His grace attached
Wanna see me stop gotta wait for that
On track when the enemy of my faith
practice Olympics
Years around for several years
But Jim Thorpe was out there
Playing baseball. He didn't
Try at all for the Olympics
But Pop Warner got him
on
Let the cries out
Wave a whole chicken by his
Legs near the crotch smells
Sweating bullets in the tip
Blow torching his flesh
I seen his face melt
Drip
the tracks spinning like a dreidel
Knock on wood, but a young boy getting pinned on the map
Route to me, tryna chase me down, but you can't trace my tracks
Moski: ""And it all falls down!""
All: ""I've been letting it all fall down by the waste side, by the waste side. Yeah I've been letting it all
motherhood
And we fall out of touch
In your absence I write songs again every day
Haunted by ghosts of the dope ass albums you would've made
Until two years
I pray to God I get my Uncle out the crack spot
I hear mad shots homicide come and play Matlock
But never crack the case cause the defendant's
foller?
Bet on Stewball, my boy, and you might win, oh, you'll win
Bet on Stewball, my boy, and you might win
In the middle of the track, up spoke
had sharpened to get your head impaled in it
Like a sword that was brought by the thought of Yog Sothoth
With these prophetic words that are combustible
boy Martin Lawrence
Drank got me slow like a tortoise
We got the smoke by the forest
Run in your spot like Forrest Gump
Bitch I pop it off
Like what you
why
People out here droppin dead like flies
I used to see a home boy givin five
Now I say, "Man, you still alive?"
Cold as hell, the town I'm from
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