Lyrics:
sacks of mail
All along the south-bound odysey
The train pulls out of Kankakee
And rolls along past houses, farms and fields
Passin' towns that have
his soul for a sack full of dough
But I gave up plenty for it though, put myself first, that's my credo
Sociopath call that shit that. Speak that shit I
can tell the dope good by how the plug tape it up
Powder over the counter sack, mac, couldn't make it up
Im major league call me Willie Mays
Real shit
do it for the coca
She hmu
Said she needed to score
If its good like the last
Bring a 3 and a 4
Cmon pull up
We can meet at the store
The one by
With a greasy black peel
You're a monster, Mr. Grinch
Your heart's an empty hole
Your brain is full of spiders
You've got garlic in your soul
Mr.
sacks of mail
All along the southbound odyssey
The train pulled out at Kankakee
And rolls along past houses, farms and fields
Passin' trains that
the pursuit of my dreams, while I'm cool with my team
Teach 'em how to rise to the top just like cream
Remain supreme by any means
Badda bang, badda bing
sacks of mail
All along the southbound odyssey
The train pulled out at Kankakee
And rolls along past houses, farms and fields
Passin' trains that
sacks of mail
All along the southbound odyssey
The train pulled out at Kankakee
And rolls along past houses, farms and fields
Passin' trains that have no
sacks of mail
All along the southbound odyssey
The train pulled out at Kankakee
And rolls along past houses, farms and fields
Passin' trains that have no
sacks of mail.
All along the southbound odyssey
The train pulls out at Kankakee
Rolls along past houses, farms and fields.
Passin' trains that have no
sacks and O-Z's
From hand-held, digital to triple-beam
Now my pa-ger's an e-mail flip screen
Expanded my game off into amphetamines
Looked around
all my sleep
Just wishing you could see what I can see
But when I fucking hit the sack
I'll dream of fans in front of me
'Coz that's just how I get it
Pack it up
Burns casino on the track
Stack it up
While I hit it from the back
Grab 2 cups
Got some syrup in my sack
We the Bucks
I'm Giannis
sacks of mail
All along the southbound odyssey
The train pulls out at Kankakee
And rolls along past houses, farms and fields
Passin' trains that have
The sky is falling
Lucky god still calling
Ive been tryna catch it
It might fall forever
While time keep ticking
How my dreams so vivid
Let me paint
Pretty promise with a cherry and a class full of rye
I took the bullet for myself and happily died
"Pat, you alright?"
Nah, survived by a damsel
the real crazy, psycho sick move the lady
Sunnin' so nothin' shady, kid pass me the three-eighty
By my sack, cock and load it, your world I'ma rock
the cost to be the boss
Always been my dream for me to make it to the top
They act like they don't believe
But shit I promise I won't stop (no I won't
12 inches in plaques
A ruck sack full of tracks and I'm on the road
A canteen full of dreams drink the whole damn load
Never ever have to worry about
I've been, selling your checklist dream
I wonder wh-y, you never made, your min- ds
My whole weight, is crushing down 24-7
I'm ready to give my kiss
a one-too-many free packs
Come check your ho to see I'm a G
I-get in a sick dream
Paid to pick teams in a room full of dick fiends
Much love to thugs who sacrifice
sacks of mail.
All along the southbound odyssey
The train pulls out at Kankakee
Rolls along past houses, farms and fields.
Passin' trains that have no
nigga in the Tray
And a four of that drank to go with my dank
It makes me lean all day
About three, I'm full of them trees
A dog want to hunt for
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