Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song F.Y.I , by - Mick Jenkins. Release date: 20.06.2019
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
F.Y.I |
| I’m a ghost, I’m a spirit |
| Motherfucking appearence |
| I’m just using these words |
| To describe the colors I’m hearing |
| And all the sounds that I’m seeing |
| I need a pound of the tree |
| And I get so lifted, the clouds looking pretty grounded to me |
| And I treat this shit like a gift |
| I randomly found in the street |
| Took that same gift and re-gift it |
| Pass it around, I don’t need it |
| Scribble it down and repeat it |
| Dribble around the arena |
| 80 points, 30 assists |
| Cause bitch, I lift the whole team up |
| You better act like you need us |
| So yes, I’m raising my feet up |
| I ain’t got shit for you to sleep on |
| Dog, I ain’t no IKEA |
| I live inside an idea |
| I’m on that plane with Aaliyah |
| I held the shotgun for Kurt |
| I built the bomb for Korea |
| I am the human duality |
| Peep the good and the bad in me |
| I don’t get why they mad at me |
| But I think that it’s flattering |
| None of this shit is mattering |
| And my brains what I’m splattering |
| Cross the page, just to refrain |
| From all the pain that I’m battling |
| My name means nothing |
| I think my age means nothing |
| I think my rage means nothing |
| I think, we all crave substance |
| I think the weed is all I need |
| I use the dutches as crutches |
| I’m living fuck your instructions |
| I’m living fuck your instructions |
| I’m livin- |
| Fuck your instructions I’m livin' |
| Big bank roll |
| Tell me whatcha know |
| Would you put it on ya' soul? |
| Tell me where you tryna go |
| Got a big bank roll |
| Tell me whatcha know |
| Guess I’m trash at origami cause my paper never fold |
| Got a big bank roll |
| Tell me whatcha know |
| Would you put it on ya' soul? |
| Tell me where you tryna go |
| Got a big bank roll |
| Tell me whatcha know |
| Guess I’m trash at origami cause my paper never fold |
| Tiramisu for breakfast |
| Gucci fendi on my shoulders |
| Smell the Folgers |
| Started seein' the pyramid schemes all folding before me |
| Like terrible shoppers |
| I’m holding my horses |
| The weight of it would tear open chakras not folding for morsels |
| I can’t just pair with impostors and move with my soul |
| When I paint nocturnal those forces |
| No fashion my niggas all saints |
| We passin' the dank |
| In my glass is a Sauvignan Blanc |
| Little gold flakes in my ash sweep the whole swank |
| Tunnel vision, I’m a long way from Shawshank |
| Watch the coupe crawl, know I came up out the crawlspace |
| Curveball, I’m in y’all face |
| It ain’t never had the clone don’t make that fake mistake |
| I think the fame means nothing |
| I think this game means nothing |
| I think reality is see through in a change of perception |
| I know the weed is all I need |
| It’s either papers or nothing |
| I’m livin', fuck your instructions |
| I’m living fuck your instructions |
| I’m livin- |
| Big bank roll |
| Tell me whatcha know |
| Would you put it on ya' soul? |
| Tell me where you tryna go |
| Got a big bank roll |
| Tell me whatcha know |
| Guess I’m trash at origami cause my paper never fold |
| Got a big bank roll |
| Tell me whatcha know |
| Would you put it on ya' soul? |
| Tell me where you tryna go |
| Got a big bank roll |
| Tell me whatcha know |
| Guess I’m trash at origami cause my paper never fold |