Lyrics:
Folk Suite

'm sorry [Chorus] [Bridge:] Just roll the ball til them folks come get ya but you gotta spend it all cuz you can't take it with ya just roll the ball til them folks

care a little 'bout me And they won't let the poor boy down Sure as she bore me, she bought me a silk suit Put luggage in my hands And I woke up high

town in St. Tropez It's hard to keep the fans at bay They say, "Sign my poodle, s'il vous plait" "Sign my poodle, s'il vous plait" Hemenene humenene Himenene homenene, poodle, poodle Folks

country, look at them boots She's gone country, back to her roots She's gone country, a new kind of suit She's gone country, here she comes Well the folk

we clean as we ride. met up wit my partna now give me a high 5. GIVE ME A HIGH FIVE AYE![8x} Walkin down da hall. posted up da real folk my boy arab

niggaz out here very scary They come from the hole they livin' in the month of February Ok then put a sissy nigga on display then Kick in ya door and have my folk

I don't know what to say about you boys You better go to the store and buy some toys 'Cause you can't play this game Next time you hear grown folks

weed Money and bitches On a boat for sweet See when I'm yellin' International help me No color lines on my Ugly and fine, you can sell me I'm glad folks

thicker than water in a few cases Your daughter can have touched for the money that in dem suit case Tighten my shoelaces, the fugitive's running In fear of a criminal past 'cause dem folks