Speed gang bitch go die album download

Let the suicide doors upI threw suicides on the tour busI threw suicides on the private jetYou know what that mean, I'm fly to deathI step in Def Jam buildin' like I'm the shitTell 'em give me fifty million or I'ma quitMost rappers' taste level ain't at my waist levelTurn up the bass 'til it's up-in-yo-face levelDon't do no press but I get the most press kitPlus, yo, my bitch make your bitch look like PreciousSomethin' 'bout Mary, she gone off that mollyNow the whole party is melted like DalíNow everybody is movin' they bodyDon't sell me apartment, I'll move in the lobbyNiggas is loiterin' just to feel importantYou gon' see lawyers and niggas in JordansShe said, "'Ye, can we get married at the mall?"I said, "Look, you need to crawl 'fore you ballCome and meet me in the bathroom stallAnd show me why you deserve to have it all."(Ball so hard) That shit cray, ain't it Jay?What she order, fish filet?"Your whip so cold" – this old thing?Act like you'll ever be around mothafuckas like this againBougie girl, grab my handFuck that bitch; she don't wanna danceExcuse my French, but I'm in France, I'm just sayin'Prince Williams ain't do it right if you ask me'Cause I was him I would have married Kate and AshleyWhat's Gucci, my nigga? What's Louis, my killa?What's drugs, my dealer? What's that jacket, Margiela?Doctors say I'm the illest'Cause I'm suffering from realnessGot my niggas in Paris and they going gorillas, huhBreak records at Louis, ate breakfast at GucciMy girl a superstar all from a home movieBow on our arrival - the un-American idolsWhat niggas did in Paris, got 'em hanging off the EiffelYeah I'm talking business, we talking CIAI'm talking George Tenet, I seen him the other dayHe asked me about my Maybach, think he had the sameExcept mine tinted and his might have been rentedYou know white people get money, don't spend itOr maybe they get money, buy a businessI rather buy 80 gold chains and go ign'antI know Spike Lee gon' kill me, but let me finishBlame it on the pigment, we living no limitsThem gold Master P ceilings was just a figmentOf our imagination, MTV cribsNow I'm looking at a crib right next to where TC livesThat's Tom Cruise, whatever she accuseHe wasn't really drunk he just had a frew brewsPass the refreshments, a cool, cool beverageEverything I do need a news crew's presenceSpeedboat swerve, homie watch out for the wavesI'm way too black to burn from sun raysSo I just meditate at the home in PompeiiAbout how I could build a new Rome in one dayEverytime I'm in Vegas they screaming like he's ElvisBut I just wanna design hotels and nail itShit is real, got me feeling IsraelianLike Bar Refaeli, or Gisele - no, that's BrazilianWent through, deep depression when my momma passedSuicide, what kinda talk is that?But I been talking to God for so longThat if you look at my life I guess he's talking backFucking with my cliqueWhat you doin' in the club on a Thursday?She say she only here for her girl birthdayThey ordered champagne but still look thirstyRock Forever 21 but just turned thirtyI know I got a bad reputationWalking-round-always-mad reputationLeave-a-pretty-girl-sad reputationStart a Fight Club, Brad reputationI turnt the nightclub out of the basementI'll turn the plane 'round, your ass keep complainin'How you gon' be mad on vacation?Dutty wining 'round all these JamaicansUh, this that prom shitThis that what-we-do-don't-tell-your-mom shitThis that red-cup-all-on-the-lawn shitGot a fresh cut, straight out the salon, bitchI wanna fuck you hard on the sinkAfter that, give you somethin' to drinkStep back, can't get spunk on the minkI mean damn, what would Jeromey Romey Romey Rome think?Hey, you remember where we first met?Okay, I don't remember where we first metBut hey, admittin' is the first stepAnd hey, you know ain't nobody perfectAnd I know, with the hoes I got the worst repBut hey, their backstroke I'm tryna perfectAnd hey, ayo, we made it: Thanksgivin'So hey, maybe we can make it to ChristmasShe asked me what I wished for on my wishlistHave you ever asked your bitch for other bitches?Maybe we could still make it to the church stepsBut first, you gon' remember how to forgetAfter all these long-ass versesI'm tired, you tired, Jesus weptCoke on her black skin made it stripe like a zebraI call that jungle feverYou will not control the threesomeJust roll the weed up until I get me someWe formed a new religionNo sins as long as there's permissionAnd deception is the only felonySo never fuck nobody without telling meSunglasses and AdvilLast night was mad realSun coming up, 5 a.mI wonder if they got cabs stillThinking 'bout the girl in all leopardWho was rubbing the wood like Kiki ShepardTwo tattoos: one read "No Apologies"The other said "Love is Cursed by Monogamy"It's something that the pastor don't preachIt's something that a teacher can't teachWhen we die, the money we can't keepBut we probably spend it all cause the pain ain't cheapPreachNow if I fuck this modelAnd she just bleached her assholeAnd I get bleach on my T-shirtI'mma feel like an assholeI was high when I met herWe was down in TribecaShe get under your skin if you let herShe get under your skin if you-uhI don't even want to talk about itI don't even want to talk about itI don't even want to say nothingEverybody gon' say somethingI'd be worried if they said nothingRemind me where I know you from?She looking like she owe you someYou know just what we wantI want to wake up with you in my beautiful morningMy momma was raised in the era whenClean water was only served to the fairer skinDoin' clothes you would have thought I had helpBut they wasn't satisfied unless I picked the cotton myselfYou see it's broke nigga racismThat's that "Don't touch anything in the store"And it's rich nigga racismThat's that "Come in, please buy more""What you want, a Bentley? Fur coat? A diamond chain?All you blacks want all the same things"Used to only be niggas, now everybody playin'Spendin' everything on Alexander WangNew SlavesI throw these Maybach keysI wear my heart on the sleeve