I Am Not a Human Being
I am not a human being Uh, pussy for lunch Pop all the balloons and spit in the punch Yeah, kush and the blunts I ride through your block see a foot in the trunk I don't know why they keep playin' I better replay 'em Giving them the blues Bobby "Blue" Bland Together we stand and fall on y'all Ballin' with my bloods, call it b-ball These days ain't shit Young Money is Got mars bars three musketeers Come through coupe same color as veneers And you know I'm riding with the toast, cheers! Now I'm back on my grizz And y'all's a bunch a squares like a motherfucking grid Shit fuck with me and get hit Shhhit I finger fuck the nina make the bitch have kids Just do it my nigga I just did Name a motherfucker deeper than me bitch dead Ya dig, this here is big biz and I scream fuck it Whoever it is I am the rhyming oasis I got a cup of ya time I wont waste it I got my foot on the line I'm not racin' I thank God that I am not basic I am not basic I am not a human being Now come to my suite and get lockjaw baby Rich nigga lookin' at the cops all crazy Its the mob shit nigga Martin Scorsese Heater close range, 'cause people are strange But I bet that A.K. forty seven keep you ordained You can't see Weezy nor Wayne I'm in the far lane, I'm running this shit hundred yard gain Uh, swag on infinity I'm killing 'em, see the white flag from the enemy Shoot you in the head and leave your dash full of memories Father forgive me for my brash delivery I will try you, I wouldn't lie dude I must be sticky 'cause them bitches got their eyes glued Young money baby we the shit like fly food Y'all cant see us like the bride shoes. I stand tall like a muthafuckin 9'2 I scream motherfuck you and whoever design you And if you think you hot then obviously you are lied to And we don't die, we multiply and then we come divide you. I am the rhyming oasis I got a cup of ya time I wont waste it I got my foot on the line I'm not racin' I thank god that I am not basic I am not basic I am not a human being Re-Reporting from another world Magazine full of bullets you can be my cover girl Bless go the weed thicker than a southern girl Strong arm rap like a nigga did a hundred curls Rock star biatch, check out how we rock And if this ain't hip hop it must be knee hop I'm higher than a tree top She lick my lo-llipop I still get my candy from your girlfriends sweet shop Spitting that he rock im smooth not Pete Rock And my money on etcetera three dots Still get a stomach ache every time I see cops You better run mothafucka, 'cause we not You better run till your feet stop You ain't even on a fucking alphabet in my tea pot Colder than a ski shop Holding on to the top, and even if I let go I still wont G-rock I am the rhyming oasis I got a cup of ya time I wont waste it I got my foot on the line I'm not racin' I thank God that I am not basic I am not basic I am not a human being
Written by: CORREA, ANDREWS / RODRIGUEZ DIAZ, MARCO ANTONIO JR. / CARTER, DWAYNE
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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