Lyrics:
Death came to dinner with New York's elite
A cup a milk a stick
Of butter and some quarantine
Mallon’s talents, a balance of beasts born
From the typhoid
Good year
Good weed
And some good memories
Lotta pain
Washed away
With pulls from the Hennessy
Making all this music
But I doubt they'll remember
what a waste
Niggas wanna see me taste my own medicine
Picture that, get on some old second grade shit, I'ma get you back
Retaliate, if it hates for
basket. And
finally Oliver St John-Mollusc (G.C.), Harrow and the Guards, thought
by many to be this year's outstanding twit. Now they're moving up
rather start off slow
This whole thing's like some sort of race
Instead of winning what I want
I'm sitting here in second place
Because somewhere
The one
been in my mind
I need to unwind now
My Family knows I've been down
Need to go outta town
Where you not around
But the memories there
I need me some air
I admit I done made some mistakes
And I have some imperfect ways (I have some imperfect ways)
I admit I helped so many people (I helped so many)
second chances exist in this sort of life
The final strife it seems to be for me
It was so cold the feeling of my bones
Drained of blood ice to the touch
The sound of the waves on the embankment
A phone in my left pocket
I'm leaving, you're staying
A forgotten city by me
You're so beautiful, my dream hasn't
to the plate
Tell them, "Hey listen what's 7 times 8"
As he contemplated I would send the ball to space
In a paper mache rocket I made
Then jog to second base
like to get to know?
Slow your roll i can tell
You're tryna take me home
But there are seven things about me
That I think you should know
See there's
Twenty-four seven
I've been working overtime
Ain't got that much to show for it
Still had to sell my soul for it
Just to get by
Twenty-four seven
"[Abilities]
To everyone out there...
[Eyedea]
Speaking of out there
SPEAKING of out there
Where's he from?
He's from some other planet, I heard
He
endless
Gats eleven inches, ya neck slit it, your head spin it
The epidemic was spread infinite, so once the thread is knitted
For seven digits, it's
endless
Gats eleven inches, ya neck slit it, your head spin it
The epidemic was spread infinite, so once the thread is knitted
For seven digits, it's
and errands got me weary
I tripped in the dark it was misty
Stars connected by wires like earpiece
She tap in to every secret that seeps out of me
The heights
hope my mood is contagious
I move with arrangements, I shoot at the ranges
I got proof I got bangers, win it all in game 7
Prepared for this last second
on the leading edge of life
(T-minus twenty-seven seconds
We applaud for redundant sequencers start
T-minus twenty seconds and counting
T-minus fifteen,
on the leading edge of life
(T-minus twenty-seven seconds
We applaud for redundant sequencers start
T-minus twenty seconds and counting
T-minus fifteen,
They weren't calling back
It ain't shit for me to toss a hundred i'm the quarter back
Baby I don't think I love you but I sort of care
Wonder why I
might find some hand to hold
But I sure won't hold my breath
Bailey by design is a someday sort of valentine
And my oh my what a someday that'll be
to me
I been right here with my day ones
Some of 'em ridin' since 7th grade
They just sayin' that I'm brash as fuck
I just add it up, Yeah I calculate
see)
Thanking God for all he made me
Yeah, ugh, its sort of funny how (Funny how)
People tweeting silly ‘bout their homie down (Hold me down)
Like they
7 years to get my check runnin
Now I'm solid cause I'm honest to myself now
Now I'm solid cause working for myself now
Now I'm solid cause I do it
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