Last Time ft. Naked Lunch Lyrics

You told me that the last time (The last time)

Would probably be your last time (The last time)

But we both know that you'll never let go

I just can't let go

You told me that the last time (The last time)

Would probably be your last time (The last time)

But we both know that you'll never let go

I just can't, just can't

Last time, he promised it'd be his (Last time)

And here he go, one uppin' his (Last time)

He returned to the game to give you his last lines

No sweat, he'll make sure it's over by halftime

Commercial break, he works away

Until the day the cash circulates

You'll see him carry the weight like it is a burpin' baby

He a big kid now, that pull-up bar was crazy

You are now witnessin' greatness

And hearin' his hunger before he has made it

And if his impatience startles your stasis

Well, this is his music, and you'll just have to face it, bitch

He gon' make it, whatever "it" is

Grindin' like he gotta feed his kids and his kids

If hip-hop's they momma, and he they stepfather

He gon' prove to Momma he the perfect partner

You told me that the last time (The last time)

Would probably be your last time (The last time)

But we both know that you'll never let go

I just can't let go

You told me that the last time (The last time)

Would probably be your last time (The last time)

But we both know that you'll never let go

I just can't, just can't

And when it's his time and there's no time

And all you hear is that horizontal line

No need for cryin', he'll have done all he wanted with his one time

Without a co-sign or a ghost line

And when niggas left him hangin' like a clothesline

He referred to the broken heart on his sleeve

It reminds him to show no emotion

Life goes on, but he goes in

Tyrese Witherspoon, bitch, stick your nose in

His business, and to every rapper tellin' you to listen

Tell 'em good riddance

Do you feel the boy who raised cash to take his ass

From Virginia's pastures to Illinois

To fill the void between your eyes and ears

And the bullshit they disguise as real?

Hol' up, hol' up, hol' up, hol' up

You are now hearin' Virginia's sincerest

Carnivore, I'm the boy that'll send your soul and/or spirit

To the Lord through my lyrics, they like swords, they be splittin'

Every core, every ligament is just storage in my fridge

And in my cabinets, ain't no Campbell's

And on my stove, ain't no chicken

It's dead rappers with no grammar

But I still hear 'em, they still sizzlin'

Next time you reminiscin' 'bout Cole, Drake and Kendrick

Best believe, Tyrese will be the fourth name you mention

You told me that the last time

Would probably be your last time

But we both know that you'll never let go

I just can't let go