Time passes on like a river that must always run Now you are gone but I will have you till time is done You can never take away the love you gave me yesterday
girl now my hommies is passin chicks takin shots outta my patron fountian im so iced out, my nigga's is iced out we standin on the couches now like on
, i got this chrome on this bugatti Im strong in this bugatti 2 v8?s aint no such thing as driving calm in this bugatti Bitch I?m bad Im worse Ill pass
take your mama out all night Yeah we'll show her what its all about We'll get her jacked up on some cheap champagne We'll let the good times all roll
chrome on this Bugatti I'm strong in this Bugatti Two V8's ain't no such thing as driving calm in this Bugatti Bitch I'm bad, I'm worse I pass the purp
Helicopter Man on the same track Yo Mannie, you cut the fool on this track TQ, I see you boy You out from West Coast to New Orleans and North Carolina
on the fellas Bout to go eat at Della's I said it sure sounds good to me I can't go tho, gotta hit Myrtle Street Passed the acorns on my way, bitch.
Out at a hotel in the quarter, our friends check in to pass the night Now love gets hot, but fire preceded water Poor whiskers set the room alight. Whiskers! Down on
Jackson, Mississippi spittin grammar (spittin grammar) From Shreveport ('port) down to New Orleans ('leans) And all points in between just to get the cream (cream) Me and my "II Trill" team on
fools on Orleans we smoke it easily Fab went to the store and get some papers nah a Swisher Sweet Sweetly stretch the dope up on the blunts and pass the
, I'ma leave you alone Why should I waste my time, get no sleep? I just got off stage, you're still complainin' You shoulda stayed on stage longer at the New Orleans
my nerve, fresh out the curb Jelly jam and preserve, nothin but balls and my word And a mossburg pistol grip pump on my lap at all times Whateva my nigga
gimmie my money [Lil Wayne:] Mr Angel on the beat Young mula baby, and the devil on the flow ha ha ha Young mullah baby, and the monsta on the hook
you heard about what that third about Nigga feel that, that fake shit we 'bout to kill that On the for real black, I never show-boat Be on the low,
, we dressed up straight from a fashion show Passin hoes, ain't nothing on the wall In the hall but platinum and gold I put the dick on the track, and
m a do mine, and throw out the muthafucking knife So when you come down here to New Orleans nigga You better put you hands up nigga it's fight time Cause
falls and I'm still standing, in the theater of my soul (Can't run, can't hide, can't get nothing right lately) When time it just keeps on passing I
I met an old man on a Greyhound On my way down to New Orleans He started talkin? in the backseat He pulled out a flask and passed it to me He said, ?
