Luyện nghe bài hát Justine's Interlude

Feels to be home
Yeah, yeah, uh

If I got you and my son and my god on my
What's the point of anybody else
It's so much stuck on my mental, it's so much you on my
It's so much money and pussy, yeah, you'd think I'm blind
I think it's... funny how blogs
Funny how shows I had went to where models walked
So many stories you and so-and-so who from Harlem
It ain't too from Harlem, so take a guess
a jet so I can recollect
You say, What's up with you, baby?, I always say, next?
I what is we in it for?
Revenge from friends' circle like what did we enter for?
Tired of dinners, I'm tired of diamond ballin'
I'm tired of hearin' if this nigga put hands on you
of tryna smile through shit that's affectin' us
Then I get to overthinkin' if I'm messin' up
Mac died and I couldn't talk, couldn't bear the
Two before it, we was talkin' 'bout love and loss
he mentioned Ariana mama and newer songs
Never told a soul, but I knew he was all along
You do to me
I write all my songs about women I never
I hate when I have to lose 'em, I hate 'em when deep
You one of my six women that's in the
I hate makin' promises that I keep
So promise to ever be too patient with me
Justine, me
Love and loyalty, that's honesty (Uh)
The devil be talkin' but God me (Uh)
Roc Nation dinners inquire 'bout Meek (Uh)
My God the realest (Uh), how we meet (Uh)

Yeah, uh, uh, uh, uh
Yeah, uh, uh, uh, uh, uh

Harlem Shake on these niggas, nah
ass niggas