Know what I'm sayin'
Even the ho' you don't care about that much is
Still yours
I get possessive
Shit
Dawg
I'm in your face, I'm at your gate
Tickets to funerals, tickets to wakes
Ship him right down to Guantanamo Bay
I took my brrt out on a date
Shootin' at has-beens, ready for, hey
You're not a boss, I heard your bars
Don't really fuck with, I know who you are
I see the green and your forest is gone
In your prime, you was off, what you on?
R.I.P. Mike, R.I.P. Mike
Jackson, Johnson, shoutout to Tys'
Praise to Allah, knees on the floor
Prayin' for peace, I really want war
Shit, I'm fuckin' with the Benelli, I'm bored
Two .16s, R. Kelly his door
Why is my mind always focused on war?
Every light ain't worth discussin', my Lord
Every light that you meet ain't a god
Some lights don't pick up, not a car
Other lights never reachin' the bar
Some lights ain't really been touched, like at all
Dracos be kickin' back just like a horse
That Cybertruck rented, you dent it, you poor
Beat your ass up, you was kickin' the door
Then beat that goth out of him, he really a corpse
Bitch, I'm nasty as fuck, sloppy seconds, this Heaven
Don't tell my niggas or my bitch or the reverend
Chopper bleed, it's givin' out C sections
You get D effort
One bitch, I don't need heifers
'Cause you're not a real stepper
Told my bitch, "Look, bitch, this shit right here forever"
Real
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Paroles2Chansons dispose d’un accord de licence de paroles de chansons avec la Société des Editeurs et Auteurs de Musique (SEAM)
