Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song GPS, artist - SABA. Album song Bucket List Project, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 26.10.2016
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Saba Pivot
Song language: English
GPS |
Oh, oh, oh |
Oh oh oh |
Oh, oh |
Oh |
Where’s your head? |
Where’s your soul? |
Your heart? |
Where’s your love? |
Your care? |
Where’s your life? |
Your scars? |
You’re lost |
Ah, ah, ah, look |
Earth can be so lonely, glad we’re all in heaven |
Bet he can count a dollar, couldn’t count a blessing |
Ayy, where’s your head? |
You neck-less for a fuckin' necklace |
(Fuckin' necklace) |
Ooh, put that shit on record, bet they get the message |
Just like after the beep |
Wear my rap on my sleeve, wear my heart on my tongue |
Where you think that I speak from its blood on my teeth |
Like a opp nigga, we opposed |
I’m at the crib playin' neo-soul |
Dropped out, I don’t need a loan |
That same school bookin' me a show |
Droppin' college collect like an audit |
I’m a artist problem, what you call it? |
I’m an honest artist so they honor |
Or we fightin' fans like Ron Artest |
I’m the coldest out, I’m so arctic |
And I’m from the same place the solids come from |
And I run shit like Sonic |
With my songs and all of my sonnets signin' |
Where’s your head? |
Where’s your soul? |
Your heart? |
Where’s your love? |
Your care? |
Where’s your life? |
Your scars? |
You’re lost |
Ooh, ooh |
Food can make you forget that the world is famished |
They on me like the new kid, this my college campus, ooh |
All these women want me like my name was Channing |
Tatum, I don’t even take 'em, y’all can all still have 'em |
Like I got my own, greed kill man, man still’ll want more |
Niggas spoon fed, talkin' bout they poor |
Niggas be broke talkin' like they on, on |
I don’t really care what oppers say though |
They change they self for compensation |
Last year I just had to lay low |
Now pass the torch like hot potato, aheh |
'Cause I’m on it, take the green line out west to Austin |
Dropped the best project since The Chronic |
Like a nerd freshman how I’m locked in |
I been, aheh, off that, dub, a nigga then I don’t rematch |
Grind mode, nigga I don’t relax, ayy, go ‘head, play this back |
Sab |
Where’s your head? |
Where’s your soul? |
Your heart? |
Where’s your love? |
Your care? |
Where’s your life? |
Your scars? |
You’re lost |
Where’s your head? |
Where’s your soul? |
Your heart? |
Where’s your love? |
Your care? |
Where’s your life? |
Your scars? |
You’re lost |
I tell 'em |
«Pop that trunk, 'cause sound deaf» |
Got kush and I smoke that blunt 'cause I’m blessed (Woo) |
Flow with the funk then I’m fresh |
And I got that 'cause I come from out west |
I was raised around thugs and ballers |
Somethin' was happenin' whenever I come through |
Hangin' with the gang or with the crew |
Anxious just to show what I could do |
And though the gas will spark, when it got real dark |
We were gon' take it to Garfield park |
To the holy city, yeah K-Town |
And go downtown so I can show 'em that I’m real sharp |
Ain’t nobody fuckin' with us |
Circumstances hurt your chances when you see how we comin' |
On my mama, Saba when he got the OG on me |
Homie, no wait, we don’t want nothin' |
Breakin atoms if we causin' destruction |
Makin' patterns if we causin' eruptions |
Second thoughts if you see us in the functions |
Smokin 'weed if you see us into somethin' |
Do ya thang and make ya money, stack ya paper |
Go ahead, represent ya crew |
As long as you respect the west side of Chi' |
Do what the fuck you wanna do |
Twista |
Where’s your head? |
Where’s your soul? |
Your heart? |
Where’s your love? |
Your care? |
Where’s your life? |
Your scars? |
You’re lost |
Comin' from one of them avenue babies, hailin' from the west side, |
nigga tryna make it to the Grammy’s, at least somewhere. |
Somewhere more than |
where a mothafucka been. |
Bucket list means something like, ya know you ever set |
up and dream and dreamed a dream and that dream done came true? |
Ha ha ha ha ha. |
.chuuuuuuch |