Lyrics:
busy showin' love, it wasn't real
So they lost me
Stevie Wonder, Ray Charles, I was
Blind when they crossed me, damn
Hey, I done did it all
With
It was sobering.
I would see family and friends and everyone would ask me how things were going. And when the record would come out and I would
Rollin' in a golden Tacoma, the shit's stolen
If that bitch tell on me, I'ma do a fuckin' drive-by in her colon
With my meat, gotta keep it obsolete
Firm members come out your mouth wrong)
We keepin' it crazy real son on the real
(violate the grand you get split in half)
Son you gonna set it? set it
Brown, jump if you want
I put it on my momma and her very last nerve
Ricky made off everything I deserved
The square root of a kilo is me nigga
The square
I done did
Maybe not cause you never kept it real with the kid
Fooled by my looks N**** fooled by my style
Been about my money went and bought a whole
by the pound
I'm posted on the block til the sun go down
Nigga I really do my thing
Kind of fuckin' hustlers are y'all?
Yeah
I'm posted in
with a honey by the name of Hannah
Wearing nothing but a bandanna
Pussy wetter than Louisiana
You know the deal, peace to Miilkbone
I keep it real flyer
its torture!
Every single minute til I finish with em
And I knock shit down
Every time I come and then I lock shit down
Til I come up place niggas
Brown, jump if you want
I put it on my momma and her very last nerve
Ricky made off everything I deserved
The square root of a kilo is me nigga
The square
Leonard's soul trembled with fear, watching him to be swallowed slice by slice. And then, from the top of the clouds, a voice was heard.
The Builder
“Come
to better myself is when I'm bet against by everyone else
So Joe hit the head on the nail
You ain't seen God 'til you starin' down a barrel
I was gun shy,
say I’m down let’s ride out to my real niggas no lie
Only thing I got in this world here is my word my ball my stripe
Ain’t no fear man round here ain't
Satan's fiery lake, then I lock the gate
Make no mistake, this shit as real as Joe, we follow the killer's code
When we come for you, tell me where will
shit up when I come around
Pay me I'll pull up it's going down
1ne of them 1nes they know it now
Aint no point in me pouring if ain't brown
Pain in my
to be a big ol' star
'Cause I'm just a fan and I Love Zac Brown Band
Oh you get what you give, let it go and make this day
Be the real thing, be all
people concerned
'Cause they know our return is confirmed by holding a gun firm
What's that in the distance?
You fucked slums raw 'til they gave birth
The art of making art
Is putting it together
Bit by bit
We haven't met. Charles Redmond. County Museum of Texas.
Nice to meet you.
I don't mean
ain't a dope by 'til yo ass got a gun and chain
It's my time (It's my time, yeah, oh)
It's my time (I'm gonna shine, I'm gonna shine)
It's my time
You might be up now
But you comin' down when your day comes
Talk a lot about gang shit
Talk a lot about staying rich
Talk a lot about dough you got
I'm still here, but at one point I didn't have a friend in the world
Because I burned so many bridges, it's good thing that I come from Pittsburgh
I
Let go, it's over
Chances ran out along the line
Let go forever
The love that we shared had faded in time
Let's pipe it up, let's go, yeah
Come
with the heat man
And we steppin' on a nigga feet man
80 pair of sneakers came from the D game
Cousin was a Crip, said it was a C thing
Brown bag
with the heat man
And we steppin' on a nigga feet man
80 pair of sneakers came from the D game
Cousin was a Crip, said it was a C thing
Brown bag
.jpg/300px-The_Real_Thing_(1972).jpg "The Real Thing")
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