Lyrics:
head, that mold my sentences
Could never be contained by your simple picture frames
For every intoxicated moment, I hate life
I strive to balance my
Wassup?
Hahaaa
Yeah! Yes! It's real talk, can I talk to y'all for a minute?
I was in the streets the other day, I had a homie come through and he
to be there, I wanted to go
You gave me no warning
You gave no reason
But I was with you
Right by your side
Just give me the strength, and I will
niggas, we shootin’ civilians
Whole lotta dope, two condos in one building
Full of them men, move in packs by ten (Hey)
If you not my girl, you can not be
"So, what would you little maniacs like to do first?"
Watching through my fingers
Watching through my fingers
Shuts my eyes and count to ten
a minute while I freak ya sister,
Push the pista,
Up against her,
No offensta, but this pimpin' mista.
Roll ya fist up, or hold ya Crist up,
Light that
and give 'em some wine
Watch 'em fight for cash
It's a high price for fame
For ten minutes that don't last
Put 'em on prime time and give 'em some win watch
be your last warning once you walk past the doorman
Ali and Foreman gonna lock ass until the morning
Marvellous finances provided by Joseph Mobutu
warning
The one who lives inside is calling
Every soul that enters is dying
Come on inside
There's no place left to hide
This shit is definitely haunted by
Thinking I'm sticking them and slanging more meat than Fogo
[Chorus: x2]
Now I can paint a beautiful picture
But you won't want to look into it
I can
Alright then, picture this if you will
10 to 2 AM, X, Yogi DMT, and a box of Krispy Kremes, in my "need to know" pose, just outside of Area 51
Yeah, bitch, I'm everything but generous Tryna get paid by the minute
I feel like a God when I'm in it, yeah I've been on this grind for a minute
on my seat
Ten-thousand-dollar toe rings, featured by me
Bitches know it's time out
They be fucking me so good, I be like 'Time out'
They want to fuck
a memory, special feature
It's falling on you from above
The walker is under the cloud
Out sound like a two minute warning
Falling on you from above
Alrighty, then ... picture this if you will.
10 to 2 AM, X, Yogi DMT, and a box of Krispy Kremes,
in my "need to know" pose, just outside of Area 51
picture, how I swerve up on your sister
Wit' a dance, tip dance that'll turn her to a stripper
Yo the burner by the zipper, burn 'em, turn 'em to a pisser
Ten minutes was the warmup, nigga
Get in tune
You wanna beef? Let's meet, hit my Zoom
I'm callin' shots
You in the bleachers mournin' every move
I
Let me get you high for a couple more minutes
Walked in all kinds of fried
I been smoking for a minute
We walked into Dubai
Only there for bout
clown on you
Broke bread with em
Blowed red with em
Eh I guess you get the picture
Stop giving me advice You Ain't Listening right
My vision's vivid
You
a minute while I freak ya sista,
Push the pista,
Up against her,
No offensta, but this pimpin' mista.
Roll ya fist up, or hold ya Crist up,
Light that bitch
Born in cold darkness
Left alone by the mother
No warning
Hunts its first prey through the silence
When you hear a deafening hiss
Means that you've
the picture
Bitch I'll never give up, ten toes down, everybody fuckin' with the sound
Like a dubstep build up, drop it on em' now, bass hits heavy by the pound
kissin' n fuckin' you n in a minute I'm a veer left
An by the pluck of the jugular see the blood of my lover and then I finish when your near death
I'm
a planet full of idiots, no need to prolong
Another minute of this warning, don't forget what I said
I'm coming for the throne, won't stop till I'm dead
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