Good Time Boy – PROF Lyrics
You’re talking to a good time boy
From around the way
Walk around tough with a tucked pistol
Keep me ‘round when your luck is low
I’ve had a whole lot of problems, fistful of condoms
Just another motherfucking good time boy
Seduce me with safety baby
I’m Vegas on a Sunday morning
Throw me some weight I’m drownin
Who’s handing out free do-overs?
Seduce me with safety baby
I’m Vegas on a Sunday morning
Throw me some weight I’m drownin
Who’s handing out free do-overs?
Life’s a prison only came here for the motherfucking view
If the truth will set me free then how the fuck am I here talking over you?
What you think, angel? Come judge me
Had a blade to the wrist, I’m lucky
When I’m drunk and alone, come fuck me
Stay alive man the world getting dusty
If you selfish little bitch, don’t trust me
Just trying to get by being muddy
Would you mind if I had a good day?
Motherfucker, you’re talking to a good time boy from around the way
Walk around tough with a tucked pistol
Keep me ‘round when your luck is low
I’ve had a whole lot of problems, fistful of condoms
Just another motherfucking good time boy
Seduce me with safety baby
I’m Vegas on a Sunday morning
Throw me some weight I’m drownin
Who’s handing out free do-overs?
Seduce me with safety baby
I’m Vegas on a Sunday morning
Throw me some weight I’m drownin
Who’s handing out free do-overs?
Are you seeing what I’m seeing?
Got a fleeting sense of well-being
I’m doing better than I deserve
I’m the luckiest man on this earth
If you got a cough you can sip my syrup
If you’re feeling cold I will give my shirt
I won’t make a sound even if I’m hurt
I’m the luckiest man on this earth
Ooh, let’s get it popping tonight!
I got some booze in the ride
I got some boobs in the ride, who wanna slide?
Last night on God, I coulda died
All of my twins, mixing the medicine ballin’ again
Hall of famin’, I’m Matt Damon on rims
Handling biz, little bitch put the guns in the Benz
You’re talking to a good time boy
From around the way
Walk around tough with a tucked pistol
Keep me ‘round when your luck is low
I’ve had a whole lot of problems, fistful of condoms
Just another motherfucking good time boy
You’re talking to a good time boy
From around the way
Walk around tough with a tucked pistol
Keep me ‘round when your luck is low
I’ve had a whole lot of problems, fistful of condoms
Just another motherfucking good time boy
Yeah, this calls for a toast
Glasses up, glasses up
May we be who our mamas think we are (You feel me?)
May we be in heaven a half hour before the devil knows we’re gone
But look at me, look at me
One more time, one more time
All this bullshit aside, I love you
