azlyrics.biz
a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 #

token - bank account (remix) lyrics

Loading...

yeah, yeah, ay
i got, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8
notes up in my notepad
and they known to give a tote tag, funny
i remember being stuck in place, i was home to where the jokes at
now i’m touring all around the world, little boy roaming like a nomad, uh
roll with me and don’t p-ss
take a picture of me, no, you ain’t gon’ post that
when you go and leave the holds, i’ll get your phone back
baby know i got the flow the others don’t have, uh
ride this sh-t like a horse
ride this sh-t like my horse
’cause i got polo on my gonads
motherf-cker take a photo this ain’t kodak, nah
new plans, real fans, i can’t introduce you
sign merch, that same pen gon’ script our future
they put me special ed, with them tutors
now i’m special guest, a little cooler
don’t got different jewelers, loyal to the men who care
omar and oscar’s on central square, you catch me there
she pull my chain and bring me closer and then do the >❓❓❓❓< homie carlos bring it to the back and make it new again that's 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8 drinks they offer me, just to get me to slip and fall, i need different offerings i need cribs and properties, big monopolies >❓❓❓❓< to sponsor me, and i need a book of strict psychology to give this chick who thinks she got princess qualities uh, nah nah nah baby you don't qualify new lady mean new drama only need sister mama just day ones on my roster no new friends, no new problems new contacts in my phone though same posters in my casa fake accounts everywhere now i guess i'm doing swell perks of being yourself make them want to as well i don't believe in luck don't congratulate me mama don't got a tennis court and that sh-t drive me crazy jesus, jesus, jesus, everybody want pieces they support me when it's convenient i say f-ck 'em all and i mean it two conversations don't mean we homies, it doesn't matter shaking my hand does not mean i wasn't wiping it off right after art of being grateful i will show you the demeanor it looks like rapping this with strep throat and a fever it looks like no sleep and little stops it looks like being in the hospital two hours before your set and didn't skip a song get along, get along, get along every day, hold the mic, to the crowd, sing along learned more when i left school, believed more when i left the synagogue and that's just me, curl my arms when i wake up and reach for the stars, they say i brag too much i cannot brag too much 'bout working hard yeah little boy!



Random Lyrics

HOT LYRICS

Loading...