Lyrics:
You are now rockin' wit The Symphony
Yes sir
It's ya boy Fliperachi the number one fly boy (yeah)
I'm the building wit my girl Mya (fo' sho)
boy
By the gallows pole
Hangman, hangman, slack your rope
Slack it for a while
I think I see my mama comin'
She's ridin' a many mile
Mama, did
out by all this hate
Make one wrong move
it gets so very tragic
Time flying by
it's gonna hit right as we panic
Makes me want to die
but every
nigga
Twitter fingers gonna get ya face booked
You could tell by the look on his face SHOOK
Choppa big enough to get his face took
We got that flame
taken just by going outside
(James Lee Alexander, Pamela Turner, Sean Bell, Bobby Russ, Torrey Robinson)
You know we can not run away no there's nowhere
you're fine
You probably go through this like all the time
You probably get approached by a thousand guys
Have you been with one from the 949
To the 714
the real thing
You the one I want
You the one I want (Baby)
You the one I want
You the one I want (Baby)
Pretty as a picture
Painted by the stars
You
ain't got part two, wafe's oh smooth proves you're Godsend
I just wanna wake up by you, everything you want give you double
Ibiza tickets for two, we make
right, yeah (Oou, Yeah)
She get me right
Uh, uh (Gang)
Posted with my brothas
We just right here by the corner store, yeah
Got some dope on me
I got my
zakrwawione serce płacze
Znowu mam „tournée" po łapie
Przestać skamleć przecież to nie miało tak być
Przecież mya jednak już oddzielnie
Przepowiednie raczej się
looking
Like Ronda Rousey
While she getting finished
I'm just chilling
Tryna write like Mya
Still Inspired
Best of me
We haven't seen it
So how I could give
wanna hound
(I mean)
That's what I mean by Detroit's Finest, like
I ain't just talkin' 'bout me, I represent home
I was there the first eighteen years
Headshots only!!
Fuck Blue lives!!
Collect them like trophies, check the archives
How many die by law enforcement?
How many are sick of emotional
model, you just hit the lotto
Oh-oh, oh-oh, bitches hoppin' in my Tahoe
Got one ridin' shotgun and no, not one of 'em got clothes
Now where's
model, you just hit the lotto
Oh-oh, oh-oh, bitches hoppin' in my Tahoe
Got one ridin' shotgun and no, not one of 'em got clothes
Now where's
I'll win every race every week
I'll overtake death by the skin of my teeth
Only by the skin of myÂ…
Burning Like a meteor
Through the letter box
J-Jungle Beats... holla at me
Grand Hustle Nigga... money
You know me, I'm so fly
Be lookin like money every time I ride by
Got them Benjis in my
This old highway seems so lonesome
When you're going where you've been
And a lonesome song can make you cry
Time and time again
By listenin'
I'm ridin' with my guys
Switch on the nine like I'm tryna whoop my child
The harder way like Penny, tryna make my mama proud
They blinded by the flair,
in
If Bug's ridin' I'ma stick by him
(Bow, bow)
If Trap slidin' got the stick by him
(Ay, ay) yC's drivin', lil' Bug bindin'
Spin it, spin it, keep
[Sonny Cheeba]
Not feel ya ma, Pimp fire
Shot vodka gotcha
Get higher
Bang on chest, King Kong flame mya
Tap my cane swing long magic wire
Straight out
model, you just hit the lotto
Oh-oh, oh-oh, bitches hoppin' in my Tahoe
Got one ridin' shotgun and no, not one of 'em got clothes
Now where's
time get the heart of my rhymes, get a nigga get better with time
And wonderin how I'm goin by, can't help it in the heat of the
Heartless hood, it's
Club up Thugs.
{Manny Fresh}
Nigga like thiiiiiis.
{Baby}
Ridin on twenties.
Memphis and New Orleans we gonna show you how we do
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