, I'ma get help from listeners I told you I'm so grow up I don't need therapy right America's nightmare carries a mic and I stay far away from snake fake
if we wasn?t black then we wouldn?t have struggled player, all I got is trap niggas and crooks in my huddle they cook and I smuggle got twenty pounds
I'm sendin' fools I goes through all shit, to lick a ball bitch To law shit, and then I'm off wit the Lootchie My game is ready to be sold I got my
stay cocking the round I shit logs and I piss river brown Cause I drink creek water and spit the river Nile And that's as close as I get to a pyramid
in Times Square. Everything must belong somewhere. I know that now, that's why I'm staying here. Yeah I know that now that's why I'm staying here. Leave
his hair Yeah, everything must belong somewhere And I know that now, that's why I'm staying here Oh, I know that now, that's why I'm staying here In
from round here Chorus (2X) [Crunchy Blac] First I'm gonna catch the bitch Then I'm gonna beat the bitch Then I'm gonna bury bitch Shouldn't of
shoot this plush and creamy lavishnuss Before I pop I'd rather die in baggy Guess and Timbs And I put that on the BKLYN and thats Funkay Ease back the
you speak is? I can't think of nothing nice to say, you're not nice okay [Crooked I] Rapper, hustler, entrepreneur My shit fly like I'm launching manure
you speak is? I can?t think of nothing nice to say, you?re not nice okay [Crooked I] Rapper, hustler, entrepreneur My shit fly like I?m launching manure
least everything you speak is... I can't think of nothing nice to say, you're not nice okay [Crooked I] Rapper, hustler, entrepreneur My shit fly like I
end all this, then I take the risk And if I fail I won't do a fishtail, in the abyss That's a diss, I'm strivin' not drivin', Miss Daisy And Patrick
Its a crooked system but gin straight take the pain away i charge the game And put my problems on layaway A black man but i feel so blue So i smoke
Yeah, all black skis black ones and the jumpsuit Slide in the slider, in and out night vision Scopes on the AR to hit 'em with precision And did I mention
black, I never show-boat Be on the low, like a black sto' the Mac flow Sorta like a cracked flo', a different plateau, the Mac show When I attack though
and the windowsills The buildings and the brittle crooked trees Dead leaves of December thin skinned and splintered Never gotten used to this bitter winter I
and yellow and green and brown And scarlet and black and ochre and peach And ruby and olive and violet and fawn And lilac and gold and chocolate and
