Styles P - Ghost Planes

Ghost Planes Lyrics

[Verse 1]
I'm African, shit, I rain dance
Grab my liquor and bebop and do the pain dance
Shit, I listen to Kendrick, Sir Jimi Hendrix
In school, they put hard and the card in my index
My momma gave her son the paper towel and Windex
Told the boy, 'Clean', but he starin' at the scene
Fast cars and pretty women, pockets full of green
Like, 'One day I have all that shit'
Then one day I had all that shit
They call me Fortune-Tellin' Ghost how I call that shit
If you on the wrong path, I know it, I took the same tracks
Except, I hear my final destination and came back
Explain that, I slang crack
Rob shit, they tried to bang on me, then I banged back
But then you're high off the weed and you're starin' at your seeds
Like, 'Where the fuck my friends at?'
When you cool, they think you soft
When you hard, they think you off
How the fuck you rearrange that?
I sat back and did the math
I been to hell and back and twice paid my dues, no change back
No complaints, I just asked, 'Where the strains at?'
It seem to be seen laided up, where the planes at?
I meet you at the rendezvous, yeah, cause I be on the runway too
Déjà vu 'bout gunplay too
God, forgive us cause we hustle on Sunday too
Miss a soul cause we probably missin' out on that Sunday food
Ain't no family at the table cause you thinkin' 'bout the label
And the block and what the sales on Monday do
Yeah, and then Tuesday too
Missed the week cause that's what puday do
We own the night, but figure what the new day do

What up? Ghost, yeah

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