Lyrics:
wait till I get rich so I can make a way to get my family out
Perfect my craft on this rap shit I've done found my talent and I can show out
I'm truly
So you see a nigga shining in the Benzo
Ballin'!
Got me feelin' like Jim Jones
I'm a pimp though, no limp though
Couldn't copy my style in Kinkos
Put
really
Think Lilly Singh shouldn't really sing
Jimmy Kimmel, get off my homepage
And lemme see more Limmy's Show
Lately, there's way too much Amy Schumer
and get a job
'Cause this little hustle's getting you by
You're the dealer and the stoner with the sweetest kiss I've ever known
I know what I was on,
mode
Me and Killa skizzing on the back road
Chilling on our Jack Jones, used to keep our Rambo's tucked
And now we skiz around in Lambo trucks
on the grind and don't catch no case
Bitches, that's what you always be
Like the other young bitches that try to get with me
I run all up in it but this ain't
what you're stealin'
Your open-wound style needed some healin'
You're stripped out by my flow
I'm glad you know behind
This spark I got the
Phattest
Me get him or answer your phone but who
Besides you wants to show their kids that
His parents are that out of
Control? I’ve been going
Thru lawyers
Switching up positions, no more missionary style
My confession for thee
You're looking at this world, when you hold still, rigor mortis
I been out this world
yeah)
Three pound in my waist, shank in my sock
You either get cut, get stuffed or get shot
This is the tale of Captain Jack Sparrow
Pirate so brave
Yeah, I'm chillin' on a dirt road
Laid back swervin' like I'm George Jones
Smoke rollin' out the window
An ice cold beer sittin' in the console
to kill every nigga
That stand by him or speak for him
Can you stop actin' like you
Doin' me a favor? Do I seem rattled?
This idiot don't even know he tell
Glock laid on the table
Day by day closer to fatal
This open Bible ain't savin' me
When it's covered all in this Hennessey
But I pick myself back up
Yeah, it's a real sad story
Show you just how unjust this world is
Let me tell ya bout a guy named Jack
Jack .B. Nimble, Jack be quick
There's a cop
Everything you say, in and out one ear
You know we love you, but it has to be said
You get your shit from Kempa, when you slide him some bread
Jack Regione
as cheery as he used to be.
Jack, this is the last loaf of bread.
Please go and sell the cow tomorrow
and get some food to eat.
Yes, mom.
While tossing
and welcome to Hurlingham
Park. You join us just as the competitors are running out onto the
field on this lovely winter's afternoon here, with the going firm
spit
Make a nigga "G" flick, classic criminal
Keep a gat by my genitals, thugs love me
So don't get splashed for the minimal
We never vest up, be
the women be
Offering me the cooch-o, eating on ossobuco
Awesome, I know, so often, we just reach the coffin
And never get to see what the world's offering
naivety is astounding. The experts seriously believe
That they will be able to limit war to the 'theatre'.
In this particular show the world will be
my bunny fur white
I keep my shit clean
Gotta look good for the chicks
Know what I mean?
I keep the hop hip, by the way, I hip-hop
Doc Sipps'll get
the best
Therefore, hard to tell
You dropped me off by the dungeon
Never came in, but I knew that you were wondering
Now are these niggas in this house
Sweet James Jones
G thing made G's speaking G code
On fire make a riot be a free show
Beat a beat up get a couple knots
I am nothing like these
tryna jack genes
Never lived out in LA but try my dawg I'll let that 40 cal eat
Who talking down on Fwea I got ADHD just send me the addy
This her
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