Lyrics:
ah no Parliament
We nuh run up inna argument
Press mi gun inna yuh face
cnd give yuh finger strength
Tall rifle the clip so bent
we clip bend some
rocking, I guess I still got it
Go Blake G
Its your birthday
Go Blake G
It's your
Go Blake G
It's your birthday
I feel like I got it
ya ass, but I don't mean sexually
Cause my trigga finger itchin' like
It got a STD all my lyrics is dumb
You niggas pussy
I'll put a hole in you, make
We got London on da Track
Drop top, wop
If Young Metro don't trust you, I'm gon' shoot you
Cartier frames, call me four eyes
Still can cook
and asked her
Didn't know what'd be her answer
Didn't know that it would lead to this
Conversations 'till
5 am in the morning
And I still got shit to do
peaks, short bursts
My creativity back then came only in spurts
Still got praise for being based in concert halls to see
Even though my tastes had changed
the sticks like donatello
Finger on the trigger you know I can't let go
Whole lotta sauce, prego
All of my niggas got cases
Money so old it's ancient
Fuck
not black
I can't tell by your complexion, you Mexican
And you're gettin' better, but you still kinda Suck ass at rappin'
You need to go take a nap
a nigga pumpkin
Yo work Blake Griffin it aint jumpin
Meet at the spot in 5 minutes cause im rushing
My niggas backwooding and you niggas still dutching
Dont
Silly with the name but I'm dope with the flow
Five fingers of death?
Just a punch to the throat
Got all the women mad in bed
Cuz baby I don't choke
Tell
your name, who you are when the cameras off
You so drunk you need orange juice and Tylenol
Said I love you but you know I had my fingers crossed
If it
we love
I got my dawgs by my side
Call me gifted
Cause all my words come wrapped in bows
I'm a package deal, I won't go without my bro's
Ysl on the bag
(with Blake)]
I know you keep somebody comin' wit yo fine ass
Too fine to be for just somebody wit yo fine ass
Masterpiece, you got some body wit yo
my shit. We're gonna hit everything. We don't kill you
We stay by myself. I don't know I keep the bitch. I cuz she won't give it talk put any work
them all by surprise
Refused to be denied yea I'm still that guy
I still got love for the homies, graveyard or the penn
Man I ain't never gonna change
the walkin'
Let your fingers do the walkin'
Let your fingers do the walkin'
Hey now
Hey now
I've got a halo above my head
And a gun in my hand
I can do
posters
The Audacity, war brings casualty
Bitch have my son before I face that tragedy
I order hits, she orders mahi
R.I.P. Vivian Blake, shout out
around neck
And no monkey bars you still
Couldn't hang for real
AR a fully, the scope got a variable zoom
You know we got range for real
(brrrt, brrrt,
in the heavy weights
I live by the street code you can never call me fake
To much money to fucking hate got a white boy name they call me Blake
Got
to the gate further upstate
I heard they got crazy weight
Bagged up by the gates, in crates like disco breaks
Yo, look out for Jakes
Give it all it takes
and girl you got that body too
You know your hair smells like vanilla, you get frisky on tequila
But just in case it's still not clear
If I was rich like
Yo, Mo Bee, mane, drop that shit
You know what time
Boo-ya, I know it's time for you
So grab one by the hand, you know what I'm sayin'?
And uh,
made from bill blake's horses of instruction.
I invented ground so I could break it and throw it in your eyes.
By the way, nasa bit space from
city
Will they get toured? Nay, do you realize
I still got a break, brother
When I quake in action, think of Blake and Jackin'
Take cover
That's Lyt
.jpg/241px-Blake_Shelton_July_2017_(cropped).jpg "Blake Shelton"){kind=spacer}
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