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Isaiah Rashad - The Sun's Tirade Album Lyrics



Isaiah Rashad - The Sun's Tirade Lyrics






Where U At?

[Dave Free:]
Hey bro you know what March, April, May, June, July. It about to be August, have in common bro. The fact that I still don't have you God damn album, I don't understand this process dog like hell you got... like everybody was bumpin' your last shit, you don't want to get your next shit out? You don't care? You don't care that they want to hear your next shit? You just that good huh? That must be your whole thing then. Man you got until Friday bro, I'm not asking no more dog, you got until Friday. I'm not asking no more
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Copyright: Lyrics © Original Writer and Publisher




4r Da Squaw

We tight as f*ck, turn up, turn the light up bitch, turn it down
Ay you roll up? You roll up for the boys? For the squad?
Nah this our job right now, hey check me out

If I can pay my bills I'm good
I'm comin' over
Found a message in my bottle your son is comin' up
Ba-da-bip-ba-ip-ba-bo
My Yari sayin' you ain't nothin' but a baby
Your fear is growin' up
Listen here I say my dude
And what you call it, it was heaven at the bottom
And peace from throwin' up
Ba-da-bip-ba-ip-ba-bo
My Yari sayin' you ain't nothin' but a baby
Your fear is growin' up

I think I do this shit forreal dawg
Hey, I ain't no motherf*ckin' maybe
I'm from motherf*ckin' real dawg
Hey mama, mama
I got some dollars for your bills dawg
Hey, now I'm the hit and I'm the type that
Callin' matters I'm Jaleel dog, hey
You know I think the sunshine
She feel how I feel, how I feel like yeah
I thinkin' night time, I know she got my phone
Hit my line, I'm here for you
The East side shame on us
Rain come on now
I figure the mood
I figure, I figure

When I pay my bills I'm good, I'm comin' over
Found a message in my bottle your son is comin' up
Ba-da-bip-ba-ip-ba-bo
My Yari sayin' you ain't nothin' but a baby
Your fear is growin' up
Listen here I say my dude
And what you call it, it was heaven at the bottom
And peace from throwin' up
Ba-da-bip-ba-ip-ba-bo
My Yari sayin' you ain't nothin' but a baby
Your fear is growin' up

I got a dollar and a
Stop in Kansas
Tote too deep
Do not, do not forget me
I been wylin' Santa
Pop and rock 'em
Lord forgive 'em for the talcum powder
Alright now stretch it, bless it
Bless it my my brother and his record
On the record, for the record
And play it back 'cause they respect us
Alright now I got the moon and the stars below my feet
So low I speak
So I don't wake them
Praise the Lord, the God in me
Who made me spoiled with rotten teeth
So I perform the prophecy
And on the norm the plot could be
To be expressed in who we are
And addressin' who they aren't
And doin' what they can't

If I can pay my bills I'm good
I'm comin' over
Found a message in my bottle your son is comin' up
Ba-da-bip-ba-ip-ba-bo
My Yari sayin' you ain't nothin' but a baby
Your fear is growin' up
Listen here I say my dude
And what you call it, it was heaven at the bottom
And peace from throwin' up
Ba-da-bip-ba-ip-ba-bo
My Yari sayin' you ain't nothin' but a baby
Your fear is growin' up
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Isaiah McClain, Francis Tran
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.




Brenda

Uh, uhm, yeah, uh-huh
Uhm, yeah, uhm, this a room

I got two cigarettes to my last name
I clock in for the check but I don't wanna go
I got two cigarettes to my last name
I clock in for the check but I don't wanna go
She said you, you can't save a ho
She said you, you can't save a ho, yeah
She said you, you can't save a ho, yeah

I mix a gallon of the gallon in a gallon of that
And down in the sign for the memory
For the energy
For the Tennessee
Fam called work all work just to visit me
I bought an ounce just to f*ck with you
He don't take no hand outs, he don't take no hand outs
Remember what my poppa told me
Remember what my poppa told me
Trust in with, Trust in ya
My inward, my friend of
Last of the livin'
So timid
All on us
Dog on it, they would laugh at the small moments
Then call
Like who had you on your bad day?
Who dropped you at that bitch house?
Like back when we was little
I was just an instrumental
Now I'm Malcolm in a million
We talked about a billion
We talked about our feelin's
We kept it more than realest
And look at how the path came
Took it for the rap fam
Would ya give ya all to the world
The work, work, and left hurt?
Shit and what's worse
She too tired to talk, lately your thumbs hurt
We miss love and sex bridgin' your son's birth
21 hurts in court by 24
Boy

You could, you-you can save 'em all um
You could, you-you can save 'em all um
She said
You could, you-you can save 'em all um

I write pissed ass livin'
F*ck that shit
F*ck call centers
F*ck is this really growin' up my nigga?
Tax on your motherf*ckin' nuts my nigga
1025 what the f*ck can a nigga do with 1025?
Plus your weed habit plus my weed habit and your weed habit
For free givin' we livin' with a weed daddy
Two kids
Mix that Boosie with that boom-bap
You rap
Like you need money like you don't love this
My shit chewed up your jury before you judged this
Pull up, suck on my dick like ain't it gorgeous
For those that can't afford this

It be like I got, I got
I got my own world
I got my own mind
Day dreamin' for a lunch break
For my son's sake
On the run for the fun's sake
I clock in for the check but I don't wanna go
I clock in for the check but I don't wanna go
You, you can't save a ho
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Isaiah McClain, Christopher Calor
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.




Free Lunch

Meal ticket, ticket, meal ticket, ticket, comma, uh
Steel in my liver, real niggas in my condom
Phil hit me back, filled this one with a powder pack
Pill bring me back, feel this one out in California

The flow is good, the hoe is good, the show is good, you know it scrub
Cool as me out front the Kanku's store, kinfolk you know it's love
Clean as Tide, Aveeno, Head & Shoulders, hoe you know it, scrub
Shoutout to my kinfolk, just got on that Coca-Cola, scrub
Watch my pole vault and my go-kart, this might get away as f*ck

In my hood we call it buck, f*ck 'bout what you think of me
All my hoes be nines and dimes, all she want is chicken grease
All you know is what your mammy taught you, 'bout the surface, get your

Meal ticket, ticket, meal ticket, ticket, comma, uh
Steel in my liver, real niggas in my condom
Phil hit me back, filled this one with a powder pack
Pill bring me back, feel this one out in California
Meal ticket, ticket, meal ticket, ticket, come up, uh
Steel in my liver, real niggas in my condom
Phil hit me back, filled this one with a powder pack
Pill bring me back, feel this one out in California

The trunk was full, the ride was long, the cop was cool, we smoked in peace
Ain't we dem to move an ATM, might buy the atrium
Where you Zay? Highway 58 at my cousin house
Nowadays I like to bring my nephews and my budget out
I come from where you can't suck my dick and leave my cousin out

In my hood we call it clout, f*ck 'bout what you think of me
All my hoes be nines and dimes, all she want is chicken grease
All you know is what your mammy taught you, 'bout the surface, get your

Meal ticket, ticket, meal ticket, ticket, comma, uh
Steel in my liver, real niggas in my condom
Phil hit me back, filled this one with a powder pack
Pill bring me back, feel this one out in California
Meal ticket, ticket, meal ticket, ticket, comma, uh
Steel in my liver, real niggas in my condom
Phil hit me back, filled this one with a powder pack
Pill bring me back, feel this one out in California

Today was a keeper
I lost my heroes a long time ago, time ago
They gon' bring you down and burn you out and fade away, way
They gon' bring you down and burn you out and fade away, way
They gon' bring you down and burn you out and fade away, way away, way
They gon' bring you down and burn you out and fade away, way
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Isaiah McClain, Cameron Osteen
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.




By George (Outro)

Hop on the road and say
That it was love last night
I know the world can wait

We don't usually take that long
The gallon, gallon of weed here
TV shows
We ain't that far from home
I used to cut her with a
If I want it you be waitin' till the mornin' for real
Cause she told me I'm a light weight
This ain't love low tide
You love lo-los
In your eyes singing your song
Like

We don't usually take that long
The gallon, gallon of weed here
TV shows
We ain't that far from home
I used to cut her with a
If I want it you be waitin' till the mornin' for real

Hop on the road and say
That it was love last night
I know the world can wait
I ain't been there in so long
You take me back to '99
I ain't been there in so long
You take me back to '99
I ain't been there in so long
You take me back to '99

I heard they got no sandwich
But your mama got some
Tell me would you steal it from her?
I run away, I run away, it ain't nothin' on the TV
Baby tell me what you stealin' from
I tried to get to know you
Like lies and matrimony
I heard they got no sandwich
But your mama got some
Tell me would you steal it from her?

Is it okay to come down sometimes?
Wow it's so good comin' down

We don't usually take that long
The gallon, gallon of weed here
We don't usually take that long
The gallon, gallon of weed here
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Isaiah McClain
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.




Find A Topic (Homies Begged)

Oh yeah
Yeah, yeah
Hey

I can make a dope fiend of you yet if I could find ya
I just like a freak ho for the nostalgia
No my heart can't break no more
I can't even feel the paper cuts
Let me see my son and let me ball, let me ball yeah
Measure twice, cut once, f*cked up
On that other night and the kids got me high enough
To touch the rim
As the kid that's the only thing I wanted then
Yeah I feel like Mikey D
Lord I guess I gotta take my words back
Merge with me Henny light hurt
I got 25 plus a few
This might be the zip
Or the shit or another clue
I got what you need
What you don't
What you never knew

Yeah skin and bones you are my favorite type
Yeah, oh skin and bones you are my favorite type, haha

You, you my favorite topic
Yeah, money, f*ckin' love it
You, you my favorite topic
You, money, f*ckin' love it
Yeah, you my favorite topic
Money, f*ckin' love it
Yeah, you my favorite topic
Yeah, money, f*ckin'

I guess we back to talkin' shit again
Very riveting
Do you love me for the benefits?
Finish this
Told me what you need, what you like, what you never did
Tell me on your knees, say it right, fix your upper lip
You just head boppin' cause I said bop it
You like jean with them bean poppers
And them lean stockers
That don't mean shit
But they cool when you need somethin'
Always need somethin'
More fees, more of these suckers
I'm a tree hugger
Caught a peep 'fore I eat somethin'
Keep your fees covered, play it safe
F*ck with me puppet
That was me truckin' overseas
Cool as Al Bundy
For the slouch of 'em
In the house and my cows comin' home

You, you my favorite topic
Yeah, money, f*ckin' love it
You, you my favorite topic
Yeah, money, f*ckin' love it

You my favorite topic
You my, you my favorite
You my
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Isaiah McClain, Jason Pounds
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.




Wats Wrong

[Intro:]
Ah, ah, ah, ah
Ah, ah, ah, ah

[Verse 1 - Isaiah Rashad:]
Cut my hair and bump my head and fell on top
And run on sins, and front on friends
If we don't win then pay your Tithes and mend your fins
And we alright, the KO kins on big o' rims
And LA hoes, if that ain't rolled up, I ain't go
I ain't home, I ain't them, I ain't them
No more ends and no more trends
And photo tint and photo lens, notice this
Pour this shit, bonafide, woe is me
Bowl of grease, naked pimp, beamin' up, clean as f*ck
Other side chill for niggas, makin' life look clear for niggas
Hill for niggas, tip top cliff for niggas, this the vision side to side
So give the nigga, if we honest you gon' miss a nigga
Twisted with 'em, this the isms
See your bitch might kiss a nigga, which nigga? Get specific
Big ass pot, wrist is glistened, your list is shit
And your, if it isn't, let's call some titties and scar your face
The robe of wrongs has caught a case
Other niggas they mob like Cartise from far away
All my niggas like "Calm down"
Lovin' life above a reason, just can't find it like a dozen people
Catch that vibe at night, and Bobby Whitney
Get too tired to write and died in prison
Felt like Rob tonight, lost my god tonight?

[Hook - Zacari:]
Oh sometimes I get so ahead of myself
Feel like I'm runnin' in circles
Oh and I'm just holdin' onto my belt
I need smoke just to exhale
Oh and I get so ahead of myself
But I'll make it out somehow
So roll another, roll another one
And put it all in the air now

[Verse 2 - Kendrick Lamar:]
How many souls do you touch a day?
How many hoes do you f*ck a day?
How many flows do your thought convey?
How many know you can't walk away?
Depending on the way I feel, I might kill everybody around me
Might heal everybody around me, how the wind blow
Open your window, at the debris and never let me in
I kick back with kick though
Maybe if I could live a hundred years that be real?
Pay me if Imma be rhymin' these homonyms
Crazy my others, yeah, wait 'til my momma knew
My daddy said a Mercedes had haunted him
But now I got one, I'm ridin' shotgun
With a three-piece chicken dinner and shot gun
I bring your weekend to an end and pop one
I'm in the deep end, boss nigga you not one
And I believe in Kool-Aid and God's son
Do you believe that Black man is our son?
I made enough residuals to hide some
I gave enough, my niggas know I divide some
I told Zay, I'm the best rapper since twenty five
Been like that for a while now, I'm twenty-nine
Any nigga that disagree is a f*ckin' liar
Pardon me, see my alter ego was Gemini
He and I been around ever since Reagan was criticized
Might stay in the Trump tower for one week
Spray paint all the walls and smoke weed
F*ck them and f*ck y'all and f*ck me
I proceed my last check in proceeds
To all the kids, the hood, the bricks, the books
To fix the blocks we on to right my wrongs
The word, to give the life we live as I get...

[Hook - Zacari:]
...so ahead of myself
Feel like I'm runnin' in circles
Oh and I'm just holdin' onto my belt
I need smoke just to exhale
Oh and I get so ahead of myself
But I'll make it out somehow
So roll another, roll another one
And put it all in the air now

[Verse 3 - Isaiah Rashad:]
Oh you got two Xannies, oh, just don't forget me
Love me for the moment (all in the air now) hug me like a sibling
We ain't that important, vice cops in the kitchen
Grew with Apollonia (all in the air now) Rob was makin' chicken
Beat me down, you beat me down, reorganize my face
Now when I go home, I don't know what my fam gon' say
They say it ain't love cause you bought flowers yesterday
Thoughts was always cheap, cheap, cheap
But now let's talk 'bout me, me, me, me, me
Lately I been comin', this ain't goin' how I wanted
When I pull up at your window, bitch come out, you hear that beep, beep, beep
Faithful as your EBT, closer than you momma can
Anger when you rang up, I'm a dog but I'm gon' crawl again
Freak me out, keep me out, why they always leave me out
Niggas that been hatin' just can't wait to have my CD now
Don't we look like CP and Nirvana on that keep me pound
Please be down, I been more than late...

[Hook - Zacari:]
Oh sometimes I get so ahead of myself
Feel like I'm runnin' in circles
Oh and I'm just holdin' onto my belt
I need smoke just to exhale
Oh and I get so ahead of myself
But I'll make it out somehow
So roll another, roll another one
And put it all in the air now
All in the air now

[Outro - Dave Free:]
I called to tell you the story of...when a few years, I gave my pops, uh, Cilvia, Cilvia Demo and my pops said uh...he listened to it for about a week, came back to me said uh...dang boy, why...they talkin' 'bout he gon' run up in somebody house...he...he talkin' 'bout you?
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Alec Tolkin, Desmond Sanders, Isiah McClain, Kendrick Ducksworth, Zacari Pacaldo
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.




Park

Mama I knew I was 'bout it
Way before venue was crowded
Way before Kevin pulled up with that Reverend
I told him to level, go f*ck on the feelings
Don't nut on her face
Trust me I feel like the man
Trust me I feel like the Wop, rock
You can depend on the stock, watch
Bitch I got ten in the pot, drop
All of my limits could die
All of y'all niggas
All of my limits could die
Look at you timid as f*ck
And you holding me up
And I'm trying to be Nicki Minaj
Rich as a bitch in the drop
Rich as a bitch, rich as my bitch on the side
Hoe I got more than you know, hoe I got
Look, watch, spill out your soul in the closet
Don't question your passion
We flipped every f*cker we couldn't be ashing
They got me so high that I look like I'm passive
Bitch, don't you know who you asking?
Bitch have you tutored the pastor
I know the root and the master
I know the coupe was a casket
I had that bitch looking like all the shit that I'm writing
That shit was so good that I passed it
Bust that shit straight out the plastic
Bitch I ain't good bitch I'm crafty
I want to piss on a rapper
I just got hookers and pampers
Niggas line up when I practice
I'm not a savage, I don't do shit just to do it
This going precise as we planned it
I'm just a bandit, plus I'm as sharp as a tack or a guillotine right at your family
Keep it so candid, knock ya like she said some candy
You down for this shit are you Brandy
Find a mechanic, tell 'em I pay 'em in fabric
3500 in traffic

Nigga I'm savvy
I look more Cuban than Maverick, the metal, the tube or the handle
Nigga I'm savvy, wait (Hey)
Wait, look, nigga I'm savvy
I look more Cuban than Maverick, the metal, the tube or the handle
Nigga I'm savvy
I look more Cuban than Maverick, the metal, the tube or the handle
Nigga I'm swagging
Bitch I might shoot at your camera
Bitch I might shoot at your camera
Nigga what's happening?
Niggas won't piss on your grave
Bitch I might piss on your family
Nigga what's happening?
Bitch I might shoot at your camera
Bitch I might shoot at your
Nigga what's happening?
I look more Cuban than Maverick, the metal, the tube or the handle
Nigga I'm savvy

Back-back, to the back-back, to the frozens and the BB's
Way before ya, way before ya thought I told ya
It's alot on the line
These hoes wanna ride on the line
These hoes ain't no Bible of mine
Back-back, to the back-back, to the frozens and the BB's
If sixteen ain't enough
I could swing it twenty-five
I could tell ya how to go
I could tell you where to ride
I could tell you where the
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Isaiah McClain
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.




Bday

Bum, bum, bum, ba, bum
Yeah feel me
Uh, uh, uh, uh

Oh, believe I feel great today
I can't help but just pour my drank
Cause they keep talkin' to a nigga
Yeah sometimes I be talkin' back
Sometimes I be, ha
I swear

Baby, nigga I'm faded
Nigga I feel like 25 baby
It's gone, drunk
Lookin' like a robber
Headed to the church or headed to the brothel
Poppin' my collar
Really like Deebo
How do you tell the truth to a crowd of white people?
Made it
Motivational speaker
Bumpin'
Most time tellin' my teacher somethin'

Baby we was like Decatur
We was like elevated thinkin', bump it
Deacon cause nothin' was a habit
Traffic was a habit, shooter got a reason
Sasha why you gotta leave me?
We was like forever life is so confusin'
F*ck it
Take me, take me to revival
Maybe this'll help me
Maybe this'll ease my mind

Oh, believe I feel great today
I can't help but just pour my drank
Cause they keep talkin' to a nigga
Yeah sometimes I be talkin' back
Sometimes I be, uh, uh, yeah
Southside niggas always stuffin' a few
Southside niggas always keepin' it there
.45 trigger gave 'em somethin' to do
We shoulda shot at the moon
Southside niggas always stuffin' a few
Southside niggas always keepin' it there
.45 trigger gave 'em somethin' to do
We shoulda shot at the moon

Jesus always told me I was special
Mommy told me go and get some money
Spread shit to the world
Cause ain't no fun if the homies can't have some
Have mine, nigga heaven ain't free
We was just prayin' for another drink
Bitch look good to a buzzard, hey
I could barely hear from the thunder, wait
I could feel for the money, wait

Baby we was like Decatur
We was like elevated thinkin', bump it
Deacon cause nothin' was a habit
Traffic was a habit, shooter got a reason
Sasha why you gotta leave me?
We was like forever life is so confusin'
F*ck it
Take me, take me to revival
Maybe this'll help me
Maybe this'll ease my mind

Oh, believe I feel great today
I can't help but just pour my drank
Cause they keep talkin' to a nigga
Yeah sometimes I be talkin' back
Sometimes I be, yeah, ha
Southside niggas always stuffin' a few
Southside niggas always keepin' it there
.45 trigger gave 'em somethin' to do
We shoulda shot at the moon
Southside niggas always stuffin' a few
Southside niggas always keepin' it there
.45 trigger gave 'em somethin' to do
We shoulda shot at the moon

Ridin' down the street with the hazard lights on
Turn my phone off while I'm switchin' time zones
Lost in the sauce now I'm shootin' where I stand
You can't call me back if you can't pay me in advance
Ridin' down the street with the hazard lights on
Turn my phone off while I'm switchin' time zones
Lost in the sauce now I'm shootin' where I stand
You can't call me back if you can't pay me in advance
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Isaiah McClain, Kari Faux
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.




Silkk Da Shocka

Yeah, I almost got this, at least we got it memorized
This for the haves and the haves wanna give a f*cks hey

I ride around in your car
I put the weed in your blunt
I am the sky to your star
I am the end of your month
You are the start of my day
You brought the smile from my face
I see the world from your eyes
You pulled a thorn from my side

I know you love me
It's rare, I know you love me
But yeah, I know you love me
It's rare, I know you love me

But, you give me all that you got
You make it stretch it and flip
I fell in love with your thoughts
I learned it's more than your hips
You know I'm caught in my vibe
But I still give you my rib
You hear them callin' my name
But know it's hard for me here
I left a home with my son
I chose the world in the end
I say you know I be back
You try your best to pretend
I say you all that I want
And when I make it, it's real
I hear 'em callin' my name
It's gettin' hard for me here

I know you love me
It's rare, I know you love me
But yeah, I know you love me
It's rare, I know you love me, yeah

And, and, and these stars are nothin' but your cousins
And starin' at your mama, Heaven wasn't falling in here
So holla you heard I'm usin' narcotics
No, I don't wanna be here, if I don't, gotta
My weed habit so close to snortin', powder
Got a few gripes but it's only about
A, dollar bill, so holla unless you're usin' narcotics
See I don't wanna be here, if I don't, gotta
My weed habit so close to snortin', powder
Got a few bitches but it's only bout a, dollar
Feel, so hollow unless you're usin' narcotics
See I don't wanna

Tell me, man you talkin' bout this you talkin' bout that
Talkin' about you ain't got nothin' to talk about
Find the motherf*ckin' topic
God damn just find, the topic bro'
Seriously God damn, complicated ass young motherf*ckers, man
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Isaiah McClain, Steve Lacy, Sydney Bennett
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.




Tity And Dolla

[Intro - Isaiah Rashad:]
Man, I'm just writing shit don't get mad when we're tryna rap
Listen me in this motherf*cker [?]
Yeah

[Verse 1 - Isaiah Rashad:]
I'm just one dirty motherf*cker
I hurt myself way more than you
This too much out here for the cup
I put that codeine in my soup
Used to spit in granny face, I'm supposed to show you love
I don't need no picket line and I don't need no f*ckin' hug
You just rappin' just because
With your napkin full of drugs
Too exclusive in the back
Should we sneak them in the club
Who is that nigga if I ain't that nigga?
It ain't thing poppin' if I ain't with Robert
Gotta consider my liver my nigga
Gotta get rid of my kidney my nigga
That was the only thing holding me back
None of these niggas ain't tellin' me shit
Lately I've only been bumpin' that Yachty
All this Burberry on top of my body
I know that some day would get me that 'Rarri
Pullin' up tryna tell me the truth
I hit you back like lil nigga revise it
Look what I got, bitches, Tity and Dolla'
Tell 'em lay back and just check out the power

[Hook - Isaiah Rashad:]
Sweet line you oh so warm, you so warm
Just wanna be like one of them
But now I don't, I ran away
I ran away, I ran away
I know that bitches gon' be with it but I love them hoes
Just call before 'fore you come, just call before you go
Bitches gon' be bitches but I love them hoes
Just call it before you come, just call before you go
Bitches gon' be bitches but I love them hoes
Just call before you, just call before you come
Bitches gon' be bitches but I love them hoes
Just call before you, just call before you
Yeah call before you come, bitch!

[Verse 2 - Hugh Augustine:]
I be on my own shit, what's the motion?
Condoms, weed, and lotion, wavy like the ocean
I got no emotions, dolo in the function
You ain't in my section, you can't tell me nothin'
She just wanna sip on the real pink soda
Ride with a big billed .40
Slide through the hood I know it's all good
I ain't from the set but I still got soldiers
Seven when I roll the dice, Henny straight, hold the ice
Lately I don't take advice
Claimin' we don't live for twice, seen to a poltergeist
Treat the beat like I planned a heist

[Bridge - Hugh Augustine:]
I know bitches just wanna be hoes
No ho just wanna love me
Know she wanna get cuddly, sip the bubbly
With an OG smokin' OG
I know bitches just wanna be hoes
No ho just wanna love me
Know she wanna get cuddly, sip the bubbly
With an OG smokin' OG

[Hook - Isaiah Rashad:]
Sweet line you oh so warm, you so warm
Just wanna be like one of them
But now I don't, I ran away
I ran away, I ran away
I know that bitches gon' be with it but I love them hoes
Just call before 'fore you come, just call before you go
Bitches gon' be bitches but I love them hoes
Just call it before you come, just call before you go
Bitches gon' be bitches but I love them hoes
Just call before you, just call before you come
Bitches gon' be bitches but I love them hoes
Just call before you, just call before you
Yeah call before you come, bitch!

[Verse 3 - Jay Rock:]
I peep, I know why, I know why hoes ain't f*ck
With your boy now they wanna say hi when I go by
Gang sicker than ebola bitch
Know when to roll up when I load my .45
Sheesh, fine lines I cross between
Pimp shit and try to enjoy this life
Yeah bitch I know what it's like
You get whatever you wish long as your coin is right, right
Wake up to the real tamale
So ill might kill somebody just for GP
Be me with a white bitch
Waitin' around the corner in a Mustang GT
I ain't talkin' bout much
Nothin' but f*ckin' and countin' a few bucks
I'm all that shit you talk
My crystal ball show your future when I cruise up
Now listen, all I want is gravy for my steak bitch
I'm gon' grind for this weight
That means I gots no time to wait bitch
'Fore you fry my chicken scrape that resin off that plate bitch
No cut, no chase, I'ma do my place so cut that fake shit
That's fake shit bitch

[Hook - Isaiah Rashad:]
Sweet line you oh so warm, you so warm
Just wanna be like one of them
But now I don't, I ran away
I ran away, I ran away
I know that bitches gon' be with it but I love them hoes
Just call before 'fore you come, just call before you go
Bitches gon' be bitches but I love them hoes
Just call it before you come, just call before you go
Bitches gon' be bitches but I love them hoes
Just call before you, just call before you come
Bitches gon' be bitches but I love them hoes
Just call before you, just call before you
Yeah call before you come, bitch!
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Isaiah McClain, Andrew Papaleo, Hugh Augustine, Johnny McKinzie
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.




Stuck In The Mud

Stuck in the mud
Hoes, dreamers, stuck in the mud
Look at what the reaper got you, stuck in the mud
Range, Beamers, stuck in the mud
Two 10's on the inside, stuck in the mud
Hoes, dreamers, stuck in the mud
Look at what the reaper got you, stuck in the mud
Range, Beamers, stuck in the mud

Give me a day where I can play and I can pamper my wrist
Chrome inside pampers and shit
Grown and defenseless, long for my sister
Song that'll get ya home, my nigga
I got a blunt inside my granny whip
Like my granny dead
When she was dealin' with them damages
Yeah, turkey bacon cabbages, ooh
Uh, what happened on a Saturday?
Yeah, we took a Yukon just to grab my folks
I need a Groupon for all this dope
I know I do find but what did you find?
That bullshit but in due time
We actin' like we livin' right
Uh, big pimpin'
These broads see stars, my nigga
We are on guard and killin'
Y'all niggas hopeless, quote it

Stuck in the mud
Hoes, dreamers, stuck in the mud
Look at what the reaper got you, stuck in the mud
Range, Beamers, stuck in the mud
Two 10's on the inside, stuck in the mud
Hoes, dreamers, stuck in the mud
Look at what the reaper got you, stuck in the mud
Range, Beamers, stuck in the mud

Look, bitch
Ain't how that shit when I be talkin'
And I get livid on that liquor
I give a f*ck about you, I want some bossa nova
You wanna see the tower, I wanna meet the quota
You look like everybody
And if my Henny body focus and if my Henny body focus
I'm baptized in that chastised, 100-proof dummy suit
Junkie, I'm an addict, everybody home
Everybody home
I got a zip we can split, don't let everybody know
Yeah, keep it on the floor
Long arm with that quick stash
Top Dawg do your bitch bad with a big bag
Yeah, holla if you with that (holla if you with that)
Yeah, twenty on this kickback
Lookin' like, uh, shit, yeah

Two 10's on the inside, stuck in the mud
Hoes, dreamers, stuck in the mud
Look at what the reaper got you, stuck in the mud
Range, Beamers, stuck in the mud
Two 10's on the inside, stuck in the mud
Hoes, dreamers, stuck in the mud
Look at what the reaper got you, stuck in the mud
Range, Beamers, stuck in the mud

Yeah
Uh, yeah
Uh, uh, ooh, yeah
I be lookin' like a
Ooh, yeah

Yeah, with two 10's on the inside
Hoes, dreamers
Look at what that reaper got you
Range, Beamers
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, oh

So, yeah, yeah
Pop a Xanny, make your problems go away, yeah, pop, yeah
Pop a Xanny, make your problems go away, yeah, ooh, see
I can handle, make the bottle go away, yeah, magic, ooh
Pop a Xanny, make your problems go away, yeah, uh, what
But I can handle, make the bottle go away, magic, uh

Can I? Can I? Can I?
Yeah, can I? Can I sleep for a while?
Can I work on myself?
I ain't lovin' no more
So if they pull up on the side, I ain't duckin' no more
This is after the half, an emotional dip
I was goin' too hard, I was sexin' the shit
Take a line, baby, spill your mind, baby
This is just a California mind statement
Ooh, shots from the Ruger, shots from the Ruger
Somebody died but don't nobody care
It's all bugged out, I'm still drugged out
We miss the couch and the lean at my cuz house

Just pop a Xan, baby, make your problems go away, yeah, ooh, what
See, I can handle, make the bottle go away (hey), yeah, yeah, yeah
Just pop a Xanny, make your problems go away, yeah, yeah, uh
And I can handle, make the bottle go away, yeah, whoa, whoa, whoa

Yeah, my cousin got a script, I'm tryna make it flip (yeah)
One baby mama cool, one baby mama trip (yeah)
No matter what I do it always be some shit (yeah)
That nigga need a hug and I just need a fifth
My cousin got the strap, I'm tryna make it flip
One baby mama cool, one baby mama trip
No matter what I do it always be some shit
This nigga need a hug and I just need a fifth (I need a)

Pop a Xan, baby
(Yeah) shit
(No matter what I do it always be some shit) make your problems go
(No matter what I do it always be some) I can handle, yeah, uh
Make your problems go away, yeah (need a hug and I just need a fifth)

Quarters and halves, joint and a band
F*ckin' your mind up, yeah, alright
Now, quarters and halves, joint and a band
F*ckin' your mind up, yeah
Alright now, bitches gon' be bitches and you niggas gon' be hoes
Only pop it 'cause you heard it in a song
Yeah, bitches gon' be bitches and niggas gon' be hoes
Only pop it 'cause you heard it in a song, yeah

Quarters and halves, joint and a band
F*ckin' your mind up, yeah
Alright now, quarters and halves, joint and a band
F*ckin' your mind up, ay, ah
Alright now, quarters and bands and motherf*ckin' bands
Motherf*ckin' your mind up
Whoa, f*ckin' your mind up
The f*ck where your mind was?
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Isaiah McClain, Desmond Sanders, Solana Rowe
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.




A Lot

I just f*cked your bitch, I don't
Yeah, yeah, yeah

I just f*cked your bitch I dont' want no f*ckin' problem
Look at what I got, he my motherf*ckin' bargin, yeah
Nigga try finesse me with the hard one
How the hell you rob the f*ckin' robber?
Project Pat was always like a father figure
Skinny pimp respect me bitch I'm mobbin' nigga
Only reason anything was tinted when it's rented
Probably cause my dirty niggas with me
Ain't really down with that chainin' a bitch
Hangin' just to smoke, boy you lame as a bitch
Audi in the back and a Porsche in the front
I got some titties on my face, got 'em crawl in the mud
Since a youngin' I've been addicted to them hoes
But I never been the type to give 'em gold
After f*ckin' she be lucky if I'm holdin' a bitch
Or a favor, askin' niggas always owin' a bitch

I wanna Cadillac like I want a Benz too
I wanna SS for my friends too
I wanna big ass house, I want a small one
So I can rent that out and I can call ya
I wanna Cadillac, I want a Benz too
I wanna SS for my friends too
I wanna big ass house, I want a small one
So I can rent that out and I can call ya

Like I'm ballin' for my inside
Freaky bitch wanna fist but my wrist tired
Vendetta, spent the bread on a rice cooker
Roll mine, held his with a vice gripper
I'm at home when I'm gone, make your life different
Do some shit on your own, they don't f*ck with your ledge
I'm gon' f*ck with my girl, I just laced it with lead
It's my mom on my phone, bitch quit givin' me head
I'm in love with the feel
Give me head, let me chill
They for sure, I'm for real
They for sure, I'm for real

I wanna Cadillac like I want a Benz too
I wanna SS for my friends too
I wanna big ass house, I want a small one
So I can rent that out and I can call ya
I wanna Cadillac, I want a Benz too
I wanna SS for my friends too
I wanna big ass house, I want a small one
So I can rent that out and I can call ya

Like I'm ballin', like I'm ballin'
Cause I'm ballin'
Ba-ba-ba
Hahaha
Yeah, Zaywop, Zaywop
Ohhh, Zaywop
Got me, got me up

I wanna Cadillac like I want a Benz too
I wanna SS for my friends too
I wanna big ass house, I want a small one
So I can rent that out and I can call ya
Like bitch I'm ballin', like bitch I'm ballin'
Like
I'd like to buy you out
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Isaiah McClain, Michael Williams II, Asheton Hogan
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.




AA

This life I live like, baby don't drink like
Baby don't think too much, don't drive
I got here, I can't even

This life I live like, baby don't drink like
Baby don't think too much, don't drive
I got here, I can't even tell my nigga
Ain't a damn thing parked outside
Size of my cup, nigga I'm Gucci
Sides of my hair, nigga I'm Boosie
Nigga burnt out, can't even catch fire no more
Figured it was just a West Side movie

But thank God I got my bank, where I keep my heart inside
And I keep it far away from all these hoes and flashin' lights
I'm like Granny with the whip, I'm not Oprah with these hoes
And I keep a snoopy broad because it keep me on my toes

We been ridin' for ten exits and I still been in your door
We get better by the steps so if I ever let you go
Baby you classy, baby you got it
Baby you ain't really 'spossed to do the whole thing
Bitch too smart, got lost just f*ckin' with a nigga
Got tossed cause a nigga couldn't think

This life I live like, baby don't drink like
Baby don't think too much, don't drive
I got here, I can't even tell my nigga
Ain't a damn thing parked outside
Size of my cup, nigga I'm Gucci
Size of my hair, nigga I'm Boosie
Nigga burnt out, can't even catch fire no more
Figured it was just a West Side movie

I was billin' in the back, I was chillin' in the back
Cause I always really wanna be that nigga in the back
You don't live it really, I can show you how to live
But I promise I can show a pussy nigga how to act
Junked out smokin' from the side door
With a bitch I wanted in the eighth grade
Hope you got an ass like Nori
Hope you pussy niggas never see me
This is why I never wanna feed ya
Cause I can tell you bitches got a limit
I can be subjective 'bout you f*ckin' up the highway
You f*ckin' up the ride, why you f*ckin' up the heist?
I remember lookin' from the outside
I remember workin' up the work day
I remember nigga havin' nothin' but my momma
And some starter on my mothaf*ckin' birthday, birthday
Baby can I live it like a body?
Let my momma smoke it 'til she finish
Let a nigga sip it all alone babe
It's been a long day, I'm in a high 10:30
All my niggas tell me that they want it
Hope I see my niggas at the finish
Let a nigga sip it all alone babe
It's been a long day, I'm in a high 10:30

This life I live like, baby don't drink like
Baby don't think too much, don't drive
I got here, I can't even tell my nigga
Ain't a damn thing parked outside
Size of my cup, nigga I'm Gucci
Size of my hair, nigga I'm Boosie
Nigga burnt out, can't even catch fire no more
Figured it was just a West Side movie

But thank God I got my bank, where I keep my heart inside
And I keep it far away from all these hoes and flashin' lights
I'm like Remy with the whip, I'm not Oprah with these hoes
And I keep a snoopy broad because it keep me on my toes

This life I live like, baby don't drink like
Baby don't think too much, don't drive
I got here, I can't even tell my nigga
Ain't a damn thing parked outside
Size of my cup, nigga I'm Gucci
Size of my hair, nigga I'm Boosie
Nigga burnt out, can't even catch fire no more
Figured it was just a West Side movie
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Isaiah Rashad Bowden
Copyright: Lyrics © Songtrust Ave, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.




Dressed Like Rappers

(My nigga made sure you were [?] for real)
(How could you ever pop a pill pack)
I won't let you go
(My nigga made sure you were [?] for real)
(How could you ever pop a pill pack)

I control the speed and I won't let you go, no, no way
You're everything I love
Hoes and weed
And I could testify
Cause who's ashamed
So I might testify

I got a face that only your bitch could love
Your type niggas don't mix with us
Ain't this special like just because
Backpack full of that wrist and lung
Boarding pass, pass my troubles
High as f*ck, lost my wallet
Going back, back to Cali
Saw my son, miss my daughter
Real life
What does it feel like?
I got my pills on
You know I'm real numb
Gettin' ready for this motherf*cker

I control the speed and I won't let you go, no away
You're everything I love
Hoes and weed
And I could testify
Cause who's ashamed
So I might testify

I can't admit
I've been depressed, I hit a wall, ouch
I hit the bank, you hit the dab
I hit the ball out
Praying God pay my cable
Splurging out one more favor
Little boys dressed like rappers
Can that road make them daddies?
I talked to God
I got approved, I got a life now
If I should die
While I'm awake, I had a nice time

I control the speed and I won't let you go, no away
You're everything I love
(Everything I love, how could you ever say no?)

[Dave Free:]
Dawg I just looked at your Wikipedia bro and it's some information... you know you see some information you already know? But you look at it more cause it's right in your face again? Bro you was born in 1991 my nigga, that's weird dog, it's creepy man. You was born in 1991 dog, you talk about this nasty shit in your music, all this crazy shit in your music, all this life shit in your music dog. Girls, bro, the girls you meet dog they're like born in 1994 bro, that's creepy dog, that's nasty dog
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Isaiah McClain, Donovan Knight, Lee Irwin, Ted Creech
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., CARLIN AMERICA INC




Dont Matter

Fake, fake, fake, feel me
(Hey)
Fake, fake
(Hey)
Fake, fake, fake, fake
(Hey, hey)

My shit go good with your mouth, don't it feel good?
It's a number 3, buckle up
Got to the scene it was bonafide pocket book
And cause you hide all my secrets from that bitch
They keep callin' your phone, I know he hate it
But the comet go
Keep us in tune and my hooker got another show
I'm on the road just to see if I can make it back
With just a scar and a carcass and a flaw
Like God and his kids
I know you hate us but it's nothin' else
They told me that I had to see it for my f*ckin' self
And if I make to the gates and he don't recognize
That I had all the traits of greatness and the starlight at my feet
So don't you take me to the preacher

Cause I might testify ay
Baby today
I might testify someday
Get it on my way
And I'm just a boy
Alright pimps, hoes, fingertips, masturbate
Alright pimps, hoes, fingertips, masturbate
Alright pimps, hoes, fingertips, masturbate
Alright pimps, hoes, haha, yeah

And I ain't done with your mouth
Say that as good as a number 3
Want some more, you got away with the tongue in cheek
Never seen, I know the code to your body
And the road to the vision is all communication
And we bust a nut
I left a stain in your inner part
You let it go
I know the words to your favorite
We know everything
But I don't have time for you baby
I am all for the profit, I am past my self-destruction
But you bring it back
I got a line for you waitin' in my Cadillac
Cause you describe all the symptoms of a common fiend
You said you read to the fire
It was good with the preacher and all the congregation
Would you testify?

I guess he at it again like
I guess he at it again like
I guess he at it again like
Let me put your knees to your chest and get ready
Let me put your knees to your chest and get ready

Alright pimps, hoes, fingertips, masturbate
Alright pimps, hoes, fingertips, masturbate
Alright pimps, hoes, fingertips, masturbate
Alright pimps, hoes, pimps, pimps, ah

Huh, huh, huh
Huh, huh, huh
Everybody's invited
Everybody
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Carter Lang, Isaiah Rashad McClain, Tyran Levon Donaldson
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.






The Sun's Tirade is the debut studio album by American rapper Isaiah Rashad. It was released on September 2, 2016, and is his second release with Top Dawg Entertainment (TDE), following 2014's acclaimed mixtape Cilvia Demo.

The album, recorded during a period in which Rashad experienced struggles with depression and addiction, features a strongly reflective and conscious tone with production that takes influence from hip hop, trap, trip hop, soul, and jazz. It features guest appearances from SiR, Zacari, Kendrick Lamar, Deacon Blues, Kari Faux, Syd tha Kyd, Hugh Augustine, Jay Rock and SZA. The album's production was handled by several producers, including Mike Will Made It, D. Sanders, Cam O'bi, J. LBS, The Antydote and Chris Calor.

The Sun's Tirade was met with critical acclaim from music critics, and appeared on numerous end-of-year best album lists from various publications. The album debuted at number 17 on the US Billboard 200, selling 19,000 copies its first week. The album was supported by the critically acclaimed lead single, "Free Lunch".
Performed By: Isaiah Rashad
Genre(s): Hip hop
Length: 63:12
Released: September 2nd, 2016
Year: 2016

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