Lyrics:
at an advertising agency
Or at a record label
My goal, if I was going to do art, fine art
Would have been to become Picasso or greater
That always sounds so funny
I was rollin' through the hood one day
Thought shit den calmed down,
"Gang-bangin'" den played out by the years since I den been around
Ain't talked
the motherfucking glock pop (don't stop)
And fuck a Glock I'm fuckin with a Sig Sauer
P226 Diana Ross cousin nina
Misdemeanor (misdemeanor), that's what we do
the motherfucking glock pop (don't stop)
And fuck a Glock I'm fuckin with a Sig Sauer
P226 Diana Ross cousin nina
Misdemeanor (misdemeanor), that's what we do
have came
Hi angels, have Jude the Baptist gently clear the stage
You know what it is mehn
You're gonna feel P
One way or the other
You're gonna feel P
em' don't have too much pride
Me and my niggas we gone ball like we Roll Tide
And if you fall I'm gone be there right by yo side
And all that pain do
by a Cross
We got the sauce,fuck what you thought
I am what I am I walk how I walk
Me and yung shadow we leave em in chalk
Rekindled the rummage that
sitting froze from behind the curtains
Guess I was blinded, by the conflict tween these eyelids
Some say life is what you make it me I take it as I
killer but it's on me
When I ride
The shit we have to do to
Make it by (The shit we gotta do)
Shot us down like dogs oh my (Bitch!)
Beat a child to death
her back
Where I'm at, she don't give a fuck, me neither
I ain't had a girl like this before, what do I feed her?
Dick (dick), loyalty, vacations
perverted
But do you ever have like sexual urges? (No)
No? Well, you will, so sit your behind down
And listen to Uncle Ricky and De La
I'll tell y'all
pissed off
Im wetting you up
You nighas Get pissed on
My nigha like jigsaw
They calling me racist
I hang with a lynch mob
Whole lotta gang shit
I
know
They only wanna do it cause they see you
They left they friends and they’ll leave you too
I’m back at my pinnacle
Feeling so cynical not
I put an ending to shit
I was brought up in fast life, surrounded by gangs
Dad was cheffing up those late nights, cooking for change
He told me
considering you lived pretty close by
The tension was destined
But I know from every single rejection comes a better lesson
I only have what I learned and I
(I'm fed up, I'm fed up)
I give it all up before I let the fame get me
I got niggas tryna sue me bitches tryna do me
Way these niggas actin' you'd
Black bottles popping when I'm on the turf
Two private jets what this nigga's worth
No girl under ten
No whip under a hundred grand
Oh yeah, oh yeah
Man
Yoo yo
Yoo yo
Black beauty yeah
Black beauty yeah
Wizdom yeah
Wizdom Jubana
YOLO is the motto
YOLO is the motto
You don't have to bleach so that
I
Crip
Ricky Ross, Frank Lucas, bumpin' your Tucky Williams
All of 'em had the crown, but none of 'em took it with 'em
So it's our job to do what they
twisted I was inspired by Fab
That's not the reason why I jumped in the lab
Got tired of fuckery sit back and laugh
Thinking to myself what if I perfect
right
I go columbine if she do me shiest
I don't do everything right
I'm misunderstood
And if I could be perfect, by now I prolly would
Two things I don't
[Chorus: Trey Songz]
Even though I'm in the streets, you know exactly what I do,
And then I, chase this paper you ain't gotta wait for me
'm only doing what Your Son would do, my Lord
I'm only doing what Your Son would do
And I'ma pray to anyone but You
And I'ma pray to anyone but You
Can we
When I see you on the street
My whole body gets weak
When you're standing in a crowd
Your love talks to me so loud
Girl, do I do, what you do
.png/203px-Ross_Lynch_2_(cropped).png "Ross Lynch")
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