leave your father or leave your son And you can leave your clothes on A nerve so sleek has entered your head Take up your sickle, throw it and leave your
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is do dirt Leave a red blood stain on your all white shirt Gucci man so gutter, I steal money out your purse Lay out in your yard, robbin' while you go to church
said she like the way I stick and make the bed rock Or how I lick and leave her twisted like a dreadlock And it's on, so stop the sweatin' like a wristband
you In rap I'm like God nigga forever above you If I don't do it all I just dial my phone And you get sprayed through your clothes like you put on cologne
makin' a livin', the Crip and Blood way I'm on grates when I'm grindin' I'm on steaks when I'm dinnin' And on Sunday's on the wine Is you can't calm
grandfathers were ministers and it came on down the line My Father preached in his parents' church When he was ten years and nine And Mama dressed in parishioners' clothes
the question. So I went in the room and I tried on all these clothes and I was like, I feel like an idiot. So I pulled out all these clothes and I'm
Haters pray to god that I turn slow Like I?m sipping on purple But I ain?t on your glow I?m in a whole ?nother circle Trying to keep it clean like church clothes
on like that Kids lookin' for Saint Nick Just leave me some cookies and get off my damn dick You want a present? Nigga, please Your house is a wreck
dentist Makin women open they mouth wide Could be in jail still running it on the outside Think not Then open up your mouth right But who care I got my corner on
off with 50 shots Ain't no stoppin' till it's finished Rag tag, leave ya fizad with bullet holes On yo bizack with bloody clothes you know Thug niggas
drop, make the average head burst So do the knowledge on the very next verse I heard a brother say "I wash the clothes, I cook your food, I pay your
gotta leave, see-ya I got your bags packed, I got your bags packed You gotta leave you gotta leave you gotta leave check it Umm, get your clothes, use
appears and disappears, you look at me My clothes I quickly, I quickly shed The curtains dance a minuet Autumn plays the music, baby Come on, hold my hand Leaves
'I want you all to go to your windows. Go to your windows and yell out. Scream with all the might that you can muster up inside your bruised, assaulted
men do. True, you showed me stuff I prolly shouldn't of seen, but you had barely made it out your teens, took me under your wings. I wanted hats, I wanted clothes
