She's my kind of rain Like love from a drunken sky Confetti falling down all night Like love in a drunken sky She's confetti falling down all night She sits quietly there Black water in a jar Says baby why you trembling like you are

Take your string bikinis, your apple martinis Take what’s left there in the bank Take your flat iron and your curlers Your sparkling water and that damn perfume I never liked Take your black Mercedes all that stuff for ladies To me you’re just a total

She gone with the man in the long black coat Crickets are chirpin' the water is high There's a soft cotton dress on the line hangin' dry Window wide open African trees Bent over backwards from a hurricane breeze Not a word of goodbye not even a note

The waters turn The hardships we endure You ain't the only son Or forgotten daughter Yet I keep on running And I won't look back The waters rise You never know just where they're at We have drowned in blackened waters

Pull up in a Demon, on God (On God) Lookin' like I still do fraud (Fraud) Flyin' private jet with the rod (Rod) This that Z shit, this that Z shit (This that Z shit) Uh-huh, ha, oh-ah-oh Ice water, turned Atlantic (Freeze) Nightcrawlin' in a Phantom

Alright, I got, I know how I'mma start this Yeah, when we link up, man, we legendary They be hatin', they be lyin' on me, too Got a tiger and a lion on me, too All this Gucci got me lookin' like a zoo All this water like I'm divin' in a pool Yeah, all

Some black water healing some time to kill I'm doing pretty good man but I ain't lying Ten years ago I had to fly Need some hard red clay and a soft sand hill Been living my dream trying to stay alive I missed my buddies, I miss my home I ain't seen my

Swallowed by a vicious vengeful sea oh ooh oh-oh Darker days are raining over me oh ooh oh-oh In the deepest depths I lost myself oh ooh oh-oh I need nothing I see myself through someone else Black water To travel the sea But there's something

What, yeah, yeah Black John McClane, Harold the Menace, and the Waterproof With my nigga Bud'da, on the track Golden State Warriors.. Eatin every rapper on the plate Huh, feel me I got three-oh-fo's in three-one-oh

Take your string bikinis, your apple martinis Take what’s left there in the bank Take your flat iron and your curlers Your sparkling water and that damn perfume I never liked Take your black Mercedes all that stuff for ladies To me you’re just a total