- Chuck Strangers
- >
- A Forsaken Lover's Plea
- >
- Count On My Love
Testo Count On My Love
Testo Count On My Love
Yo
I don't need drama class, I got the block for that
Plus I know how to act, he split the pile with the knife from his back
Word to me, bro, I thank you for that
Hundred racks, no tax'll make me tilt my hat
Need all sixteen switches just to lower my nutsack
Don't cry my nigga, just bust back
I hit your PayPal through the rough patch You drunk, then lay the drum track
Frontal got my lungs black, but still, if niggas pass, I got to touch that
Spliff hot as the sun, just look at what I've become
Its [?] weighs a fucking ton
And still, It ain't as heavy as my conscience son
I'm in Beverly writing hustler poems, the hustler's poem
Day and a half, I'm in a zone of my own
I ain't even pay the bill on my phone
I'm an asshole, depending who you ask though
My only motivation is the cash bro
I told God if it's real, show a nigga one sign
I looked up and seen the California sunshine
I hit my roach, sip some leftover Plum Wine
'Cause bossing up is in my bloodline
One time is usually what you get [?]
It's what you willing to accept
Its no friends, just a bang before the darkness
Let's talk about catharsis
I know that I'll be good regardless
Because again, in the end, I'm your man tough
Long walks down the ave, big smoke all zipped up
Its them against us, I'm writing until the casket shut
Lord knows that I ain't had enough
I don't need drama class, I got the block for that
Plus I know how to act, he split the pile with the knife from his back
Word to me, bro, I thank you for that
Hundred racks, no tax'll make me tilt my hat
Need all sixteen switches just to lower my nutsack
Don't cry my nigga, just bust back
I hit your PayPal through the rough patch You drunk, then lay the drum track
Frontal got my lungs black, but still, if niggas pass, I got to touch that
Spliff hot as the sun, just look at what I've become
Its [?] weighs a fucking ton
And still, It ain't as heavy as my conscience son
I'm in Beverly writing hustler poems, the hustler's poem
Day and a half, I'm in a zone of my own
I ain't even pay the bill on my phone
I'm an asshole, depending who you ask though
My only motivation is the cash bro
I told God if it's real, show a nigga one sign
I looked up and seen the California sunshine
I hit my roach, sip some leftover Plum Wine
'Cause bossing up is in my bloodline
One time is usually what you get [?]
It's what you willing to accept
Its no friends, just a bang before the darkness
Let's talk about catharsis
I know that I'll be good regardless
Because again, in the end, I'm your man tough
Long walks down the ave, big smoke all zipped up
Its them against us, I'm writing until the casket shut
Lord knows that I ain't had enough
- Riis Beach
- Style Wars
- Fresh
- No Dice
- A Pause For Peace
- Class Pictures
- Thoro Hall
- Two Pit Bulls
- 1010 Wins, Pt. 1 & Pt. 2
- Lorimer Street
Altri testi di Chuck Strangers
- Testi Lucio Battisti
- Testi Negramaro
- Testi Renato Zero
- Testi Gigi D'Alessio
- Testi Alessandra Amoroso
- Testi Canzoni Napoletane
- Testi Eros Ramazzotti
- Testi Elisa
- Testi Biagio Antonacci
- Testi Cesare Cremonini