Lyrics:
on a stairway to heaven
Ayy, ye ain't no killer, nigga, ye ain't no killer, boy
Ye ain't no killer, nigga, ye ain't no killer, boy
Carbon 15's, A.K.'s and Mac
where them boys kick doors
That's the same spot where them boys sell O's
A wiseman said, when that money call, go
'Cause if you ain't getting loot, then
is popping
Niggas think you next boy your lips are jockin
I don't fear shit but my empty pockets
They talking nonsense
I'll pay you no mind your bars
boots, dirty truck, where I stay is a wreck
But that's just how I ride because I'm country boy fresh
Yea, slide into my blue jeans, so fresh so clean
you)
You look so deep
You know that it humbles me,
Your by my side and troubles them don't trouble me
Many have called but the chosen Is you
Whatever
tonight
We rollin', whip stolen, AK loaded
I'm down to ride tonight
We smokin', straight loc'n, locked and loaded
Somebody gon' die tonight
This is
Crockett singing the rudest, most grotesque
Nastiest bluegrass songs you've ever heard in your life
I'm talking about the kind of song
Where not only is
boy
Nine in my bag boy shopping cart mad toys
Sky is the limit turn a rock to a astroid
Life after death give you death after life
Break yo self before
So, which one of these do you like
This lip petal by Bobbi Brown and
Hold on
This is Veneer by M-A-C
Which one do you like best?
You know, you
crack
By seventeen
Eighteenth street where I played that
Nineteen - on the corner with
Twenty in they straps
Playing with my money like
Playing with my
Awhh yeah
Break me off some of the real players shit
What's up motherfuckers? This is Khayree
And I posted at this here
Spot with 2Pac, Mac-Mall
Ray
want me to leave
I'm coming back if it's tonight I got to see
Cause a hunned pack is waiting for me by the creek
My boy a mac and the other one a sixty
flying yeah
Cup in my hand
Fuck you and ya brand
I got this mic for like half a grand
When I drop my album you gon understand
That boy versatile, man be
nigga, you Blues Clues
24 karat my chain, Mr. T pity the fool
Master P, No Limit money, bando jumping like a bungee
Kevin Hart, your money is too short,
the state that is golden
State where the youngstas keep holdin'
Feds and the narcs be patrollin'
Northern California, come and take a look (come and take
good about tonight, I'm country boy fresh
I'm what them country girls like cause I'm country boy fresh
Dirty boots, dirty truck, where I stay is a wreck
In the industry
I don't give a fuck what you did
This is my house
Take off your shoes when you walk in my crib
Niggas talk crazy to Hitman
And I'm
position so get back to where you came here from
I'm serious, my flow is sure to leave you in delirium
Delirious, delicious rhymes, so thank me if you're
like my Netflix loaded
(Get em')
Telling your boss brick city boys is fire
Never mind
Half of y'all be talking through the wire
Media slandered me
So
Chop it up
Flexin' with the kung fu
Listen up to di wiseman
Burn a spliff to big chunes he is my friend
Up on di moon is where I'm zen
Big time love
whatever you wanna be, my boy
Just know you can't do it like me, my boy
Don't you wanna get high tonight
You got what I want what I like
Bad bitches good
niggas 'til a ring is on my hand
Then I search your name, find you on the 'Gram
Click the Linktree and see you suckin' dick on cam, what the fuck?
Oh,
Funkee P)
Ah To da face it's QF da funkee P
Yes my name you know what I'm saying
(Mac Maestro)
Ah check it
(Zebulon & QF Da Funkee P)
Yeah yeah
(Mac
wit my hand on Mac 10 handle
Schemin' on you niggaz
By myself in my four corner room watchin' Hard Boiled
I feel like I'm crazy, my brain on drugs
My
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