Lyrics:
I never thought I'd see Kobe go before Magic
That taught me first, no seconds to waste, only waist I like is her legs wrapped around my face
Fuck
Niggas speakin' on my name and I been gon' for a min
Touchdown and cause hell wit that 30 round extended
Hit yo block wit this chop knockin' shit off
can put a melody over this...
No
Yeah! I am the melody
Hate me
Nigga hate me
You a dummy funny
Lady
I'll name you katie
Talking shit
You like
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Right
Out of every door?
No, it's just on the street where you live
And oh, the towering feeling
Just to know somehow you are near
The overpowering
At the second oak stop sign
Tell em how I used to have dope money
In lunch lines
Give me my flowers while I'm here
Damm right I want mine
Spit hot fire like
must thought Millz was the next man
Who knows where she at
She's probably wit' her ex man
No second guessin' what's the next plan
New season back
I put the name Microphones on the tapes I would make late at night after work at the record store. I was already by then a couple years deep into
helped
Wish I picked up the phone
I was chasing one more high as your spirit returned home
Just wish I could see your face
Show you where you could have
Same size as Dua Lipa, where the fuck my pen go?
Second fiddle to weirdos, you feel like Eddie Winslow
Street Fighter like Birdie, keep a stick like
the Gaza Strip
You know where all the monsters is
Street walkers
You don't see no consciousness I'm coming back to where
The core of the problem is
We
having to feel it wit the type of shit to make a nigga take a second look
I be
[Hook: Jane Handcock]
I do my own thing do my own thing no permission
pour out of every door?
No it's just on the street where you live
And oh the towering feeling just to know
Somehow you are near
The overpowering
of clumsy whores
With no vocal cords
That means they can't run or scream
Flow doper than morphine
My name tastes fresher than Listerine
Whenever they mention
[Angie Martinez]
Let's get it on it's Angie Mar' reportin live from the streets
From Y.O. to Philly and Harlem to Q.B.
When it drops it's game over,
I'm in Hollywood came from Kingston Food
Shorties standing in the streets with tools
Where I'm from we don't play no games
Ain't no April fools, you
Second lines pity crimes
Down to a gun call all from a phone call
I done been through it all
Well you forgot my name fiend
And I don't fuck around
correctly
A lot of suckas would like to forget me
But they can't
'Cause like a champ
I have got a record
Of knocking out the frauds in a second
represent
And yeah I said that I'ma be a smart kid
I come from the city where the people don't play
See us coming down the street?
Man, find another way
Put
it
The second time poppa ripped the womb open early
And exposed me to the coldness life prematurely
Where mom's love used to live, now housed
[Featuring Street Life]
[Method Man]
Suspect chin niggas no win niggas
send niggas back to go try again niggas
all hail me
figure someone just has to remind them
Maybe those were my old names
But they're no longer the names that I will respond to
My name is the name I have
Cause that's just what KR collects
See, what do you expect when you rhyme like a soft punk
You walk down the street and get jumped
You got to have
Yea 30 for 30 nigga
Hah
Whoo hah whoo hah whoo
They probably mad that I say that I say ima goat whoa
Ya just be actin like ho's whoa
My people want
.jpg/300px-30_Seconds_to_Mars,_Anfiteatro_Camerini_(2).jpg "Thirty Seconds to Mars")
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