Letras:
Magazine My Mind Ain T So Open

My mind, it ain't so open That anything could crawl right in The last place to lose yourself Is in the world where we all cling Oh, my lover, we are

shit, ya know how we ROLL When I tumble and drive then you reply Myyy myyy myyy, my-my-my! Yo, I execute all plans Run up in two bitches for me and my mans Ha, breakin fool, ha, for my

Christmas wrappin' Sayin' ain't I pretty and ain't I cute and look at my skin Look at my skin shine, look at my skin glow Look at my skin laugh, look

KING bitch I got my reasons [Chorus:] Wrist so frosty, neck so chilly All on my mind is to get more millies Niggas talk shit that's silly Shawty he ain't

plane Recognize, Johnny Blaze, ain't a damn thing changed How high? So High that I can kiss the sky How sick? So Sick that you can suck my dick 'Til my

wit the realism technique Automatically, pulled you right into my lead Feel me, as you indulge in your magazine I couldn't believe my eyes When I opened up that magazine

will be heard by millions We ain't the problems, we ain't the villains It's the suckers deprivin' the truth from our children You can't hide the fact

My my my my my my Yo I execute all plans Run up in two bitches for me and my mans Ha, breakin' flows, ha for my fans In my turn, they just give me the

're grateful you know Wish I could see you more Avah at the rate that you grow My favorite uncle Franky for opening ya door When I ain't have a place