From the unknown I ran away, I don't think I'm coming back home Whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa Like a crawlspace, it's a dark place I roam Ain't no right way, just the wrong way I know I problem solve with Styrofoam My world revolves around a black hole

Alright, nigga, no more fun and games, let's go (oh fuck) You, you set the standard for (what, me?) the future generation Liar, yeah, listen Slum village with the feeling, get a beat I bet you I'ma kill it (kill it) Huh, you ain't ready for the realest

You ain't gotta go home tonight You can stay right here with me (I ain't goin' nowhere when you wake up I'm gonna be right there) Don't you worry bout a thing (I ain't worried about shit) You're here with me (Look its like I love my wife We going

You don't know a thing about me 'Cause baby you don't know a thing about me You ain't got the right to tell me Acting like you own me lately Mister Know It All Well you, you think you know it all Oh you think that you know me, know me That's why I'm

'Cause country ain't never been pretty Country ain't never been pretty, and that's alright You might not get it at first, but you'll come around And see, your legs look great with both feet on the ground, aw right Please stop me if you get it already

If it wasn't for these state lines You know I'll be there, right by your side Pulling you in, your body on mine Ain't no way I'd ever take my hands off of you Dancin', burning up the room You know that I'll keep on lovin' you I'll be lovin' you all night

Tonight's the night It's gonna be alright 'Cause I love you girl Ain't nobody gonna stop us now Stay away from my window Stay away from my back door too Disconnect the telephone line Relax baby and draw that blind Kick off your shoes and sit right down

So don't make me tear it up You know I don't give a fuck And I ain't here to shake things up But I got my hand on my gun Tear it up, tear it up yeah Here we go now, here we go I beat the pussy up like Ying-Yang Put it right, thur like Ching-Chang You

Ain't no place I'd rather be Chil'ren, dead homies and family Sky high, iced out paradise, in the sky Only place that's right for me Chromed out mansion in paradise, in the sky Shit, tired of gettin' shot at Tired of gettin' chased by the police and

You know you at the top when only heaven's right above it We on, it's Young Money, motherfucker If you ain't runnin' wit' it, run from it, motherfucker, all right Now somebody show some money in this bitch I got my gun in my boo purse And I don't bust