Lyrics:
on his
Own, and a double entendre for technical
Fouls in basketball jay opens
There by asking forgiveness for making
His first dollars off drugs, cooked
MCs, how? To rhyme first
Of course you rap last, so you can show off your skirt
I guess it didn't work on "4 3 2 1"
You got out done by
Tock it don’t stop
SkyHigh records we been down for nothing now on everything I’m reaching tops
Like sprinters in the 100 dash of yards
Running by
on the record.
I'd written 'You really got me' as tribute to all those great blues people
I love: Leadbelly and Big Bill Broonzy. And Dave was playing the song
and I got to meet Jay-Z and he said
"Oh, you a real soulful dude"
And he, uh, played the song 'cause he already spit his verse by the time I got
MCs, how? To rhyme first
Of course you rap last, so you can show off your skirt
I guess it didn't work on "4 3 2 1"
You got out done by
Here we go-o, uh-oh
Every two records you do scenario
You get the best MCs, how? To rhyme first
Of course you rap last, so you can show off your skirt
you nowhere
Shit just crazy you know
I could tell by your eyes that you won't ride
Call my phone let it ring a couple more times
Too high for this
and records,
but we're gonna buy them back some day
and down at Tommy's Pawn, there's an unheard song
buried in my grandpa's guitar
by a box of antique photos
every morning
Felt worse than the night before
I tried to brush it off but only really made it to four
At least by then, there was probably beer bath
unloose my belt
How ima beat it I might go to jail
Ill make you sing like adele
You know its gas off the smell
Im that nigga you cant tell
Im not Pharell im
ass (woo)
Turn that shit off and move your ass (uh)
Get my money, bitch, make it fast
Break bread or fake dead and kill it back
All greens, by all
on zoom
Boom new toon, write songs in my room
Sleeping with the bride, even though I ain't the groom
Your husband assume, come back with his goons
Put
on zoom
Boom new toon, write songs in my room
Sleeping with the bride, even though I ain't the groom
Your husband assume, come back with his goons
Put
had it all along they were wrong
Shall proclaim my thrown and make the game my home
Defame these lames that made a name off the same ole song
I aint
treated us in 1963
And we'll try to do everything
We can to please you
With the type of songs we write
And record next year oh yeah, somebody asked
Us if we
no drive-by's
We walked over
COB bandana tied to the end of the AR
Iller than they are, rhymes so sick
Give 'em the day off
This is the chaos, Nicolas
that
Could pull it off not naming any names
Modeliste: How would you describe
Your personal style?
MGK: I like passing by mirrors or windows
Especially
wealth
I got platinum for sell
Trying to compete with Adele
Gold records coming go tell
The miners sorry oh well
Never stopped since 19
Coming hard with my
rolling in the deep and I'm 21
I ain't need this type of heat
I almost let myself get depressed
And I can't let them feed off of me
You was possessed by
day?
Yeah
When the record came out she
Called me two days ago, man
Man, my phone is ringin off the hook
With people askin me for
Tapes and free
Ooh, I see guys and girls dancin', ooh, ooh
Ooh, I see guys and girls dancin', ooh, ooh
Now as the record spins around, you recognize this sound,
Ooh, I see guys and girls dancin', ooh, ooh
Ooh, I see guys and girls dancin', ooh, ooh
Now as the record spins around, you recognize this sound,
I guess this is the perfect time for me to set the record straight, let's go
Six years ago a n***a started rappin' Six times in a row and this shit
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