Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Songs In F Major, artist - The Alchemist. Album song The Cutting Room Floor 3, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 24.12.2013
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: ALC
Song language: English
Songs In F Major |
Shit is madness… the fuck is wrong with you? |
Yo Al, calm down, calm down man… |
No really, what the fuck is wrong with with you? |
You got some nerve, bitch |
Uh, uh |
Tell me, how could you disrespect me in public? |
You can come and get the rest of your luggage |
This has nothing to do with fame, shit I came from nothing |
And I know when a bitch brains corrupted |
Still in awe; |
not Eve, wondering «Why Eve?» |
The one who gave birth, supposed to be the Earth to my seed |
If I could press rewind, I never would’ve put my hands on you |
Never read the manual, «Things that a Man Should Do» |
Uh, I’ll admit I’ve had a few |
April, Danielle, Rachel, Amber too |
The furthest thing from the family dude |
Showed us pictures of me somewhere on camera nude (that's fucked up, I’m sorry) |
Shit, I tried but honestly |
The concept of monogamy is not for me |
Only thing I’m afraid of is commitment |
I’m sorry but this relationship has ended, now stay up out my business (bitch) |
So if you want to see a nigga again, you ain’t gotta pretend |
Uh, no I’m not a lover, but I’m more than a friend, I don’t know where to begin |
And she don’t ever want to go out, she said she’d rather go in |
Let’s go in, hey hey, oh |
«There's some ladies out there that can do some wild shit» |
I’m telling you, dawg. |
Know what I’m saying though? |
Yeah, I see them too |
«Check this out» |
Ok, ok, type of bitch, I know you ain’t lying |
Uh, her crib’s spacious but its rented |
She get impatient when it come to big faces |
Summertime: paper-chase, hibernate for the winter |
Just maybe you’ll catch her face in December |
Kept her fans itching, I mean the fiends springing |
Had that ambition, trying to reach a zenith |
To the top from the bottom, all the while |
Stayed fresh from her socks to her noggin off the Game Wess |
Like Jigga out West, they’re in trenches |
Type of chickens that drive Lexuses and Benzes |
But still alift in Maybach, keep her thang cocked |
A pain in the ass; |
bucket, ain’t no straight shots |
I swear I’d never hit a woman |
But I’d shake the shit out, when if she don’t zip her mouth up |
Can’t live with them, can’t live without them |
We go overboard for what’s under their blouses |
I swear, some be on some wild shit |
You know the ones you wouldn’t want to have a child with |
Oh no, I see your ass and trowel tip |
I can tell by a smile she a foul bitch |
Check it out, uh, check it out |
«Something for your mind, body, and your soul» |
Uh-huh, yeah; |
ayo Alc |
We coming from, coming from, uh uh |
From the side of California where dreams are denied |
And niggas collect cream doing crime |
But for me, fortunately, I can rhyme |
Believed eventually I would shine |
Climb out the bucket in fact, never stuck in the trap |
I’m singing, the production is what I come to attack |
Quit bumping your gums and go uncrumble your raps |
You ain’t a boss, you a worker; |
here, hustle this pack |
Boy, get down or get from 'round here |
For a pound, I’ll leave a clown aired the fuck out |
In a minute, knock a nigga from his couch to his kitchen |
Uh, I don’t mean to be mean, but that’s all I can be |
All I got is my word, these two balls in my jeans |
And the world in my palm as long as I’m in control |
I hypnotize your mind, body, and soul |
Let it be known |
It’s the F, nigga |
Uh, word to safety, word is simply |
«All my life I’ve been a rolling stone |
I got no place that I call my home» |
Desperado, Santiago, uh |