Lyrics:
like a giro and a henry of skunk
See I - got the beats from Harry Love I do shows with
And me and Mystro got flows and now you know mate.
I've been
emphasize the show, we got ego
Make this your night, just slip it right, and by day
As the people say, live it up, shucks
No work or play, our world is free
want to wear my shoes
Ain't got the slightest of clues or either paid your dues
Then these hoes goin' crazy, bout J baby!
The way you show me your
grade indicate that I don't give a fuck what's going on
A couple hours later on
And not to mention that one bitch that I loved
By the way I call her
on my brother, man Cause he wanna show his ass like the other man
You got some money, and now you think you livin' good You're still just a nigga from
It was a chilly Georgia Monday morning
Space heater tappin' out, there goes my saving grace
(J.U.S.T.I.C.E. League)
A danger to myself, I'm my
And the Grammy goes to
Open up that envelope
No, not those envelopes
My envelopes got a bag in 'em
J.U.S.T.I.C.E League
I don't need your
snakes. Never gave a fuck always give and never take. Why she a acting fake? Why she show up late? I’m tryna show that love but they pushing me to hate.
your army, go fi you tanker oC
Go fi your - (Awoh) go fi your - (Awoh)
Go fi your Huggies, go fi your pamper
Sneakbo, let me show you the wave
(That's
kitty and throat say hello not talking the show
I'm with the bro and we smoke by the four pass the weed all around like the 70s show
Laughing and focused
at home, invite all my friends
Open up a brew or two, smoke some Cali green
On my Carolina shit, Ev' do his Cali thang
(it's poppin) i show him how we lean
satisfied
J.Cole with the soul but a hood nigga like "Trap or Die"
So don't confuse me with one of these other rapping guys
I love this music shit yea I give
facing no jury
Fuck the police fuck the system
The government don't help nobody
No love in the streets
No love in elderly homes
I went toe to toe with em
green and that white
Buckin in the club showin love
To the Kaze clique cause we in this bitch
Juicy J and Paul got some sounds
That'll make a thug rich
to lip-lock
I can tell he hating but he won't stop
You can tell him I'ma give it all I've got
Take all the hate by the way
We going up
Don't show no love
about to throw a couple thousand
I love the way she slow dance
She make me throw more bands
Grabbing ass with both hands
She in luv with the dope man
She
they see me
In the streets but fuck 'em
Yall don't really live like me
In the hood like me with crackheads and
Dopefiends unconditionally
I show love
jail
I live for these moments of madness
And love every second standard
Its a way of life and we're living it
Running round like Jesse J and the bandit's
Written by Vaughn Monroe, Sammy Cahn, and J.Styne
Oh, the weather outside is frightful,
But the fire is so delightful,
And since we've no place
(yeah)
My crodie buss an AP, but I told 'em show it plain
'Cause it's plane jane sky dweller, one to twenty K, nigga
We kick your door, nigga, everybody
California
Conversations 'til the sunrise
When you stop by, California
I don't wanna be the one that's left behind
I love the way you lie
I don't wanna be
to choose from, despite what the books might say
On records it will show
That they must have died alone
Or have been cared for by a friend until their grave,
of the school in her P.E. shorts
Life goal is making out by the hand ball courts
Then one day she found out I sold pot
She said, slide your girl a J and I'll
BE BACK SOON
(c) J. Nozuka
I'M TIRED OF GETTING POSTCARDS
I'M TIRED OF PAYING LONG DISTANCE BILLS
BABY BE BACK SOON
I'M TIRED OF DREAMING OF SEX
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