Lyrics Back Again - Tyler Thomas
I'm
always
mobbin'
with
he
same
muthafuckers
Same
niggas
I
trusted
Same
little
bucket,
'least
i
ain't
gotta
bus
it
Paint
Job
cool
but
the
hub
a
little
busted
And
that
thang
old
as
fuck
I
think
it
came
with
a
musket
Names
you
discussin',
the
real
niggas
disgusted
Bitter
lil
nigga
you
can
catch
me
ear
hustlin'
Flame
in
the
fussin,
peel
rains
like
they
onions
Hoes
claim
that
the
deep
as
the
Hudson
Then
tell
me
something,
Bitch
I
though
so
You
can
hold
this
dick
but
not
no
convo
Reachin'
in
my
pocket
got
me
thicker
than
a
poncho
Crack
from
my
tonsils
til
I'm
the
head
honcho
How
the
fuck
you
finna
be
fly
without
launch
code
Got
a
dream
bigger
than
my
ego
span
Niggas'
thought
that
I
was
crazier
than
a
cee-lo
jam
Posted
up
talking'
shit
about
some
G4
plans
A
nigga
could't
pay
the
bill
on
his
G4
plan
I'm
a
high
ass
nigga
with
some
high
ass
thoughts
Eatin
high
fat
food
with
my
high
ass
broad
Blow
an
eighth
with
my
niggas
that
my
high
ass
brought
And
drive
slow
hopin'
i
don't
get
my
high
ass
caught
So
whats
the
dealy
tho,
nappy
fade
chin
like
a
billy
goat
Hungry
and
I'm
faded
my
niggas
askin'
a
dinner
quote
You
know
the
little
bucket
like
a
beamer
when
I'm
in
it
though
I'm
ridin'
dirty,
tags
been
expired
for
a
minute
though
Fuck
it
with
my
finger
out
the
window
lookin'
ratchet
With
a
couple
of
the
homies
that
i
tend
to
act
an
ass
with
Usually
I'm
not
the
type
of
nigga
that
behavin'
Like
I'm
missin'
home
trainin'
But
Tonight
I'm
lookin'
basic
Whores
in
contortion
the
way
I
be
switchin'
faces
It's
amazing
how
da
liquor
turn
a
angel
into
satan
Now
we
makin'
moves,
Just
to
make
do
seems
like
the
only
time
we
pray
to
Jesus,
when
the
bills
due
Back
again,
Weed
spillin'
on
my
lap
again
Drinkin'
Kool-Aid
from
tap
again
Back
Again,
Feds
lookin'
at
my
cap
again
Black
again
Back
again,
Weed
spillin'
on
my
lap
again
Drinkin'
Kool-Aid
from
tap
again
Back
Again,
Feds
lookin'
at
my
cap
again
Black
again
Just
a
funky
little
nigga
puffin'
reefer
Smoke
inside
your
hoodie
had
you
lookin'
like
the
Reaper
Kickin'
it
like
FIFA
to
a
Mona
Lisa
You
like
to
boogie
to
the
rhythm
of
your
own
speakers
Thrown
Heater
with
a
low
Caesar
How
you
doin'
it's
nice
to
meet
ya
My
cousin
comin
home
with
more
stripes
than
four
zebras
I
have
a
blunt
rolled
on
top
of
some
new
sneakers
A
bottle
of
some
liquor
just
so
you
can
wet
your
beak
up
That's
all
I
can
afford
though
We
bigger
now,
wish
I
has
the
dough
to
get
you
Like
Money
Mitch
when
you
gettin'
out
Got
'em
now,
rather
we
have
'em
When
ya
ends
low,
you
found
out
that
family
has
you
When
the
wind
blow,
you
find
out
the
family
gathers
And
when
ya
wins
low,
you
find
out
that
family
matters
But
for
real,
Uncle
V
miss
you,
we
been
goin
fishin'
Drinkin'
tryin'
to
help
him
fill
the
void
but
he
miss
his
baby
boy
Back
again,
Weed
spillin'
on
my
lap
again
Drinkin'
Kool-Aid
from
tap
again
Back
Again,
Feds
lookin'
at
my
cap
again
Black
again
Back
again,
Weed
spillin'
on
my
lap
again
Drinkin'
Kool-Aid
from
tap
again
Back
Again,
Feds
lookin'
at
my
cap
again
Black
again
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