Testo My Last Try - Nicholas Craven
Testo della canzone My Last Try (Nicholas Craven), tratta dall'album Trapper’s Alley 3: Hell or High Water
Everything you do is just alright
Yeah, Mr. Mafia
Everything you do is just alright
Biggest, creature, what else?
Doing 7'5 up the Fisher
With a half moon out of Mr
In the hood run the place and give me the jitters
Born to pick up the litter
Quarter brick in the rimmer
45th on my dinner
Shorty think it's a snicker
Trim it's Melissa Ford
Square it's a checkerboard
Boof a heat up hot as the S-4
Told him, cue the beat up, now you can press record
It's like I breed classics, got all the V's matted
Gucci jean hat with the little G's, tax me a dollar
Flashing back on the memories of me bad as a child
Seem like all I recall is the fiends flagging me down
Bagging down the shortcake in the kitchen, trying to base the tape
Upping my 30 in his face, making him pray for mercy
Showing up late to court dates, down at the Frankie Murphy
At my preliminary exam with a paid attorney
227, 50-50, now we play with burgers
Hunnit tippers and hustlers, it ain't no 83rd today, what else?
Beam on the switch, you see what happened to the last guy
I'm trying to put wings on the brick and make the glass fly
No more nicin' it up, say hello to the bad guy
Where we at with it?, Mafia or whatever
Type of nigga jump to conclusions before I ask why
Knowing Jake is still eyeballing work with a glass eye
Wasted my chance to walk away, now this my last track
Cut my overhead expenses on the road trips from Bowling Crest to Memphis
Cupholder full of chains for the parking meters
Fielding in Glencoe, the Sunderland and Margarita
Ran out of rings, he had to cut it with the carpet cleaner
Can't walk away cause I don't think I got the heart to leave her
Young and quick, the Randy Moss of body, he my star receiver
I make your Maybach look like the grill of a Pinto
It's tough to shoot the key on here, do a drill in the end zone
On Hell Block with the 223 and my Kenzo
Got the streets in a limbo, what good is it if you can't spit?
Dope butter is the suede on the weed timber
I'll get you shot dead in your face, it's me Lindo
We gon' show up and show out wherever them lames kick it
Had to swap out his Blick, he put in too much pain with it
227, whole city know my gang wicked
Can hit the road or take a hit, get paid the same ticket
Lets get it
Everything you do is just alright
Beam on the switch, you see what happened to the last guy
Everything you do is just alright
I'm tryna put wings on the brick and make the glass fly
Everything you do is just alright
No more nicin' it up, say hello to the bad guy
Everything you do is just alright
Type of nigga jumped to conclusions for I asked why
Can't walk away from you baby, even if I try
Lo and J can still eyeball the work with a glass eye
And I can't walk away from you baby, even if I try
Wasted my chance to walk away, now this my last try
And my daddy (oh-oh-oh, daddy)
Sweet daddy (oh-oh-oh, daddy)
Oh, daddy (oh-oh-oh-)
Credits
Writer(s): James Clay Jones, Nicholas Craven
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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