Lyrics:
It's
The Boy
Deep Breaths
I'm sitting by myself at Bob Evans
And I never really believed in Heaven, so I
Wonder where it is exactly I'm headed
Cuz
[Master P]
Air Jordan ain't no motherfuckin hero G
My heroes is niggas in the ghetto that slang D
That right on chrome and triple gold and pimp hoes
in the right place at the right time
Finally spittin' out the right rhymes
Finally reading inbetween the right lines
I got a smile on my face
Ever
[Archie Lee]
SwishaHouse bitch, I wreck shows and flows
Swng wide, frank does, and high cap on hoes
Bouts my peety, bouts lucci, all abouts my cash
I
To materialize the dream before we die
There's faces to see and places to be
And stories to hear
There's no need to care about time, yea
We're a local safari
face or
Would he say you looking for heaven but hell is that way
We gotta walk by faith not by sight
We gotta walk by faith not by sight
We gotta walk
my time
I have to stick by her, too, while I'm serving her time
It's kind of romantic if you think about it, Rand
A man can't testify against his wife
the faces of the poor,
But there'll come a time when such overt displays of wealth
Will not be tolerated by the people in the street.
In a sane society
about this
In the morning
Always grinding
Ain't no lie about this
Grinding Smile on my face
No like really though
No like really though
In the morning man
hit a lick told her "I'll be right back"
Wanna do it like this, but I do it like that
Told that bitch to roll it up, nigga Imma face that
Doin drifts in
And wigga talk about uh price to make it right for you
And if you like that alright then we got what you need
And if you like that nasty broad we got them
don't give a fuck about the rules you make
I'm in the middle of Costco puffin on pot smoke
Looking you in the face with smoke dropping out my nostrils
I
the right thing
Like I'm spike lee
But all These spikes
In my life in my way
Like a Boobie trap
It's a fact
I Act like
I cant see
Bob and weave Through
what you please about de-funding police
Running your mouth means nothing to me
Nothing to see
Disrupted by corruption up to they cheeks
Can't breath
a gun to my face and I felt it explode
That's what it's like to break out of the mold
Didn't know that I'd make it but I did it in style
Wish you could
Got stabbed by a stem in the pack
So I hit the weed man up
Hit his ass to come outside
Robbed his ass with a fake gun
Left the real shit at home
a bitch who the fuck she talking to
You can tell by her face its a riddle
I'm hard on a bitch never to soft on a hoe
Pops taught me that I was little
I'm
Ayy, Bob, what up? Yeah, haha!
Meek Milly ha! Grand Hustle in the building!
Ayy hey!
It's B-O, B-O lil' C on the beat
Haha yeah
Yeah, ayy, ah ah ah
Words and music by bob seger
There's a highway
A lonesome stretch of gray
It runs between us
And takes me far away
Out in the distance
Always within
into another
Your boyfriend doesn't know about me and your mother
Not perfect grammar, always perfect timing
The Mike stands for money and the D is
wasting time, searching for gold
Living in your mind
Time slippin away
Truth right before you
Can't look in its face
Shinin too bright
Rising just like
A woman on the radio talks about revolution
when it's already passed her by
but Bob Dylan didn't have this to sing about
you know it feels good to be
A woman on the radio talked about revolution
when it's already passed her by
Bob Dylan didn't have this to sing about
you know it feels good to be
of the mystified sun
65 million degrees divided by the shine's sum
Right, um, back to the angry talking
clpine avalanches vanish, bars are anti-frosted
Smashed in
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