Agreement interlude by Trey Coachman Lyrics
[Verse 1:]
Alright alright alright (Tell 'em!)
I know our history
But for now we gonna leave that in the backseat
‘Fore we drive in the scene like roller skates and waitresses wink
My whole fam and crew gotta be eating swell
And never thirsty of the thought
Of not being well off
On my momma and written in ink
Also tell all kids their responsibilities be to stay carefree
And learn the lessons that Michelle brought
Like love everyone and not let the hate stink
You and even I thought
These changes would leave them shell shock
Or have their minds rot
Even after taking shortcuts through the woods
After the arcade and the rink
Where teens run game and youngsters would fast for treats
Kids in these cases would think
Daddy's briefs be holding enough pennies in vending machines
To secure their candy crushes with their ticket count confirmed by the register ding
With enough X’s and O’s to enjoy the Weeknd in every country
I'm talking family brunches alongside where
Sally sells her shells with her tie dye scrunchie
With no more problems related to money
So if we finna pull up
It gotta be in the vintage, drop top, six speed
With the breeze yelling through my hair
That makes them scream silence
Down the freeway for one album
Like Motownphilly isn’t separated by thousands of mileage
So if we talking paradise under these conditions
Hey, I’ll let you be the pilot
Alright alright alright (Tell 'em!)
I know our history
But for now we gonna leave that in the backseat
‘Fore we drive in the scene like roller skates and waitresses wink
My whole fam and crew gotta be eating swell
And never thirsty of the thought
Of not being well off
On my momma and written in ink
Also tell all kids their responsibilities be to stay carefree
And learn the lessons that Michelle brought
Like love everyone and not let the hate stink
You and even I thought
These changes would leave them shell shock
Or have their minds rot
Even after taking shortcuts through the woods
After the arcade and the rink
Where teens run game and youngsters would fast for treats
Kids in these cases would think
Daddy's briefs be holding enough pennies in vending machines
To secure their candy crushes with their ticket count confirmed by the register ding
With enough X’s and O’s to enjoy the Weeknd in every country
I'm talking family brunches alongside where
Sally sells her shells with her tie dye scrunchie
With no more problems related to money
So if we finna pull up
It gotta be in the vintage, drop top, six speed
With the breeze yelling through my hair
That makes them scream silence
Down the freeway for one album
Like Motownphilly isn’t separated by thousands of mileage
So if we talking paradise under these conditions
Hey, I’ll let you be the pilot