Lyrics:
a reflection of your heart. That words alone could never capture. When I write a Christmas song, it is almost always born from a moment in my life, inspired by
West berlin
Bobby pin
Boogeymen
Bowling pin
Dead puffin
He be the king pin
Pam is so silly
She feels God in this Chili’s
Michael’s foot just grilling
kemosabe
Big ballin is my hobby
We be steady mobbin
And you don't want know problems
Whoa kemosabe
Big ballin is my hobby
We be steady mobbin
And you
you can chew
I'm about to make an example out of you
Like Kyrie Irving with the handles
Then break it down roll it up
Get a creative spark with every
angsty but that's how the industry goes
Im more than Earthly like handles from Irving leave you severely exposed, yuh
Never take shit so run from me so
really do it (cap)
No we is not no kids no more, I'm grown
I really been stackin' it up (uh yeah)
You seem like an industry plant
You will never do shit
"Hello, children
Hello
Are you ready?
Then we'll begin"
Ey
Hier sind die Beginner, woo
Yeah
Das is' für die alten Zeiten
Für den alten
bitches
I think she cuffed me for the record that I set in Guinness
Cuz Man You should've seen her face, When I beat the second place by more then just
thing that come a rental
Time is expensive and so is my love
I gave you the max
And then sum
Fuck all that feelings shit
Racks to the ceilings bitch
I
antlers
Cancerous cause I ain't got no time to play
When I ask you a question
Answer is the lie where you lay
Lay where you die
Never wake up die where you
Rakaa
Eyes in the back of my head
Back steps wanna see me this
Slash what it stand by
Killa ma stink da cold question
Turn a minute throw is like
My this
says to me, If I could publish a cookbook, you can write a Christmas song. I can't wait to hear it.
She was so sure of it. And I was taken aback by her
parading my serenading
As I'll probably miss a bar,
But if this ditty is not so pretty
At least it'll tell you
How great you are.
You're the top!
purgin', we hop out Suburbans
Like Kyrie Irving by the way I'ma spin back
I feel like a waiter, these bullets I'm servin'
I pull that bitch out then I
to yall Shoutout to yall shoutout to yall
This is a song for you... all
My friend, they ask why you're such a mess
You go to college and you work giving
your culture
Give me back the Berlin wall
Give me Stalin and St. Paul
I've seen the future, brother
It is murder
Things are going to slide, slide
your culture
Give me back the Berlin wall
Give me Stalin and St. Paul
I've seen the future, brother
It is murder
Things are going to slide, slide
on the prize no lithium
Ok this beat is fire
And you know we season em'
You knew what you was messin' with don't treat my like an option
Ok all my songs I've
here regardless
Let me give you something to get lost in
I promise
This world is passing by did we make a mistake?
Turning upside down cause we was
Acting real cocky and counting my cash
Like Ricky Bobby
You ain't first then you last
Been had day one's
But they gone by day two
Rap still alive
They thinkin' they know what it take, but these niggas don't, they don't know what I feel
All by myself, by my lonely, but look at me now, you know
people die for respect
How much are you willing to give
Price is too much for this shit
You can keep your respect give a fuck what you did
Live by your
distracted by money drugs and four
Fives, I count lives all on these songs
Look at the weak and cry, pray one day you'll be strong
Fighting for your rights,
the burner
Yeah, riding around with the 30
Ayee, I'm pulling up on you and serving
Yo bitch look like Julius Irving
And my bitch look like she a Kardashian
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