Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song My Yout , by - Joey Bada$$. Song from the album Summer Knights, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопRelease date: 26.03.2020
Record label: Cinematic
Song language: English
My Yout |
| Uh, just put it in the air |
| Light that loud and watch disappear here |
| Thoughts at the speed of light years, I could see the light |
| Yeah, this the right year made the flow, yeah |
| Clear and easy to steer in the space and time erasing fine |
| Amazing in the maze of clichés |
| Each day weighs out enlightenment |
| Niggas blacked out 'cause I got ultra violent |
| Now my wave lengths to the radio waves |
| Still keep it under pavements but not a ratio change |
| My patio the same, but I ain’t even got to tell them that |
| Poppy leave them dimes at my welcome mat |
| Get high as heavens, hope he’ll never come back |
| I’m like 5'11, but have angelic contact |
| The devil jealous in fact, 'cause I rebel the spells |
| With a letter to God, I swear you know me so well |
| This one time, I said, «Lord, would you help?» |
| Some short time after, see my music on the shelf |
| And of course, I gotta thank myself |
| My wealth is in my happiness and mind |
| And not my pocket health in its ashes |
| If you don’t even think sometimes |
| If its passion let relationships synchronize |
| Drowning inside her, true eyes is to the higher |
| I don’t drink too much, I know the bud wiser |
| It’s the livest one, Bedford-Stuyvesant |
| Yo dogs, I got the loud |
| Blow the smoke straight up to the cloud like |
| I sky high, my sky high |
| Ay, sky high, sky high |
| Yo dogs, I got the loud |
| Blow the smoke straight up to the cloud like |
| I sky high, my sky high |
| Ay, sky high, sky high |
| Uh, one hand on the mac, one hand on my sac |
| I’m thinking to myself, what if I handed it back? |
| But I gotta hand it to myself, I’m handling rap |
| Handsome versing that’s like hand-in-hand combat |
| Rehearsing, I got eight arms, nigga |
| Disarm your favorite rapper, he won’t come back |
| Made flex drop eight times, nigga |
| On contact, rewind that like eight times |
| Got to keep it G, this for my masons |
| Figure it out, eight times, the average amount |
| I may sign which I don’t like lime light but I’ll shine witcha |
| Bitch, I gotta eat, I might dine witcha |
| Yeah, I got bars but I’m like Akon witcha |
| Convict music for real, this industry give me chills |
| 'Cause in the streets I’m chill but still heating up for a mill |
| I’m like so real, life is so surreal |
| Sosa really got sealed for the way he revealed |
| Taking hold of pitchforks still, but I will never yield |
| In this pitchfork hold thinking I gotta appeal |
| 'Cause I’m thinking like a deal could get me living swell for real |
| But if I skyfall, thinking ideal |
| Yo dogs, I got the loud |
| Blow the smoke straight up to the cloud like |
| I sky high, my sky high |
| Ay, sky high, sky high |
| Yo dogs, I got the loud |
| Blow the smoke straight up to the cloud like |
| I sky high, my sky high |
| Ay, sky high, sky high |
| Selling LPs and CDs |
| Grassroots with grassroots, seeds on |
| Five finger discount weed leaves, |
| Exceptionally speaking determination |
| Breeds success and proceeds, |
| Feds want the photos and IDs |
| Into them blood like IVs |
| Cause every youth |
| Want the newest Nikes |
| Straight jeans and white tees |
| But these things will get pricey |
| And I’m gone, hitting knowledge |
| And I’m hitting the strong |
| I’ve been hurting way too long |
| And I can’t wait too long |
| And I’m gone, hitting knowledge |
| As I’m hitting the strong, |
| I’ve been hurting way too long |
| I can’t wait too long |
| I’ve been hurting way too long |
| I can’t wait too long |