CORRECT LYRICS
Lyrics : Give Me My Flowers Now
Imagine working hard and having almost everything you could want in life
And in the blink of an eye
You find yourself fighting for your life
Never take anything for granted; not even your last breath
If I die in the streets today
Tell my mother that I'm sorry the reaper came
I haven't reached all my goals
Father, please embrace my soul
Tryna survive, so while I'm still alive:
Give me my flowers now
Give me my flowers now
'Cause Father Time countin' the hours down
Daffodils, tulips, carnations and lilies by the pound
And Shaka Zulu, King Tut, emperor wearin' the proper crown
Glorious empire ruler, you should be bowin' down
Turn my circuit into a circus like I'm some kinda clown
Degradin' my existence, prolific talent and vibrant style
Don't say I'm the best when I'm gone
I can't hear not a sound
Sorry, but my ears ain't workin' if I'm inside the ground
Went from shopliftin' in Key Food inside the aisle
To usin' [?] to stuff crack inside of vials
Road to the riches, my transmission done conquered miles
From the hood to Hollywood, makin' my mama proud
Comin' to my funeral fake cryin' and hidin' smiles?
You undercover haters and culture vultures are not allowed
This is for my fans from New York and out of town
If I go, let off the streetsweeper, a thousand rounds
And in the blink of an eye
You find yourself fighting for your life
Never take anything for granted; not even your last breath
If I die in the streets today
Tell my mother that I'm sorry the reaper came
I haven't reached all my goals
Father, please embrace my soul
Tryna survive, so while I'm still alive:
Give me my flowers now
Give me my flowers now
'Cause Father Time countin' the hours down
Daffodils, tulips, carnations and lilies by the pound
And Shaka Zulu, King Tut, emperor wearin' the proper crown
Glorious empire ruler, you should be bowin' down
Turn my circuit into a circus like I'm some kinda clown
Degradin' my existence, prolific talent and vibrant style
Don't say I'm the best when I'm gone
I can't hear not a sound
Sorry, but my ears ain't workin' if I'm inside the ground
Went from shopliftin' in Key Food inside the aisle
To usin' [?] to stuff crack inside of vials
Road to the riches, my transmission done conquered miles
From the hood to Hollywood, makin' my mama proud
Comin' to my funeral fake cryin' and hidin' smiles?
You undercover haters and culture vultures are not allowed
This is for my fans from New York and out of town
If I go, let off the streetsweeper, a thousand rounds
