My destination, my mission, my intuition So close I feel it changing me False affection took the best of me Deep inside, the absent mind Denial and hypocrisy All the same To do this we part our ways Suddenly I know, I have to let it go All that's been

Ladies and gentlemen, due to circumstances beyond our control We are unable to continue our broadcast of dance music We shall continue now with our piano instrumental

Cause girl it feels so good the way you bring out the bad in me Id rather ask forgiveness than permission Cause I'm doing all these things I've never dreamed You put me in a delicate position But I'm right where I want to be Girl it feels so good the way

Tell me how you feel 'bout a nigga coming thru on a 4am flex shawty We done came down off a mission now its time for the 4am flex shawty Leaving round 2, did the mission round 3, you the 4am flex shawty I'm on my way right now, on the 4am flex yeah You

She told me do her body right, I did She said she want me spend the night, I did, I did She want me hit it when she wake up, I did, did Yeah her body be calling, I be on that mission She like the position, waking the neighbors Got 31 flavors, I'm doing

By the skin of our teeth, now it's killing time Walking stiff let me tall ya' Better left for dead And now we are on a mission Well it's full speed ahead My legion's when we do the crime Let's get one thing straight To get there early is on time And

Six-foot, seven-foot, eight-foot bunch Ahem excuse my charisma, vodka with a spritzer Swagger down pat, call my shit Patricia Young Money militia, and I am the commissioner You don't want start Weezy, 'cause the F is for Finisher So misunderstood, but

You're never too young You're never too young, never too young to die Never, never Hold on to someone close, friend 'Cause you're never too young Remember the ghosts before you And drink to their souls tonight And don't forget what they told you We're

Don't mess with the missionary man Don't mess with a missionary man A missionary man Well I was born an original sinner I was born from original sin And if I had a dollar bill For all the things I've done There'd be a mountain of money Piled up to my chin

They're selling postcards of the hanging, they're painting the passports brown The beauty parlor is filled with sailors, the circus is in town Here comes the blind commissioner, they've got him in a trance One hand is tied to the tight-rope walker, the