Lyrics:
parts with his parts out, and
Then he just laid his shit down
And it was great by then went to
'Ye house, played it for him, he
Was like, 'cool' wayne
ass, ho
Peter-rolled by Koopsta, Crunchy, Juice, Paul, Boo and Scarecrow
Ho, it's a whole lotta demons in my world today
Which means you run into
Beats by Dre
Speakers imprint and her Moscato
But also a Victoria's Secret
Bra, some Air Jordans
And a baffling "teatox" drink called MateFit
(dialysis
shoulder... ? Aw, you're fulla shit, man... ah, listen, by the way, before I go on; did you get those white albums I sent ya with the pencil on the front... ?
slammin' albums
BDP rocks consistently
From criminal minded to nineteen-ninety
Why? Well that's my secret baby
Here's a hint: the public pays me
So
a little lookie
Hit the green house, too crowded
Just checked out the entry
Smoked so much weed I got the highest in the century
Coffee Shop stop we found
Yeah, house got too crowded clothes got too tight
And I don't know just where I'm going tonight
Out where the sky's been cleared by a good hard
Yeah, house got too crowded clothes got too tight
And I don't know just where I'm going tonight
Out where the sky's been cleared by a good hard
Ah-ah, I never saw so many people tonight
I mean y'all all got it crowded up in here and that's good
I'm glad that y'all givin' it up for him,
(Don't say a word) keep it quiet, son, don't say a word, yo
(Don't say a word) keep it quiet, son
[Verse 1]
Yo, I'm rap's dirty little secret that they
dont know what to do
I'm paralized by you
I built my house on shaky ground
I built my house of cards
I feel alone
When I know you're standing near
So
I'm a woman so I don't have real bars
I'm a rock artist by far
Yet I'm painted a rising pop star
Who raps cause it's cute, when I'm a scar
Yes do
First, the DJ must power up the amplifiers.
To play a record, select an album and put it on the turntable.
The racer must attach five dollars
We drove six miles up the road
Through piney forest slopes
To your parent's house in Colorado
We got out in the foggy air
The secret rock you hid
a diamond, get down on one knee
Will we have a white wedding on a shore by the sea
Will we build a big house with a wraparound view
Will we travel the world
on (come on)
I'm talking to you, come on the Working Hour
This is the working hour
We are paid by those who
Learn by our mistakes
This is the working hour
and also the psychology
I'm emcee etymology, powered by curiosity (Unh, yeah)
Just tell me what's so hard about it
Why am I a secret / That you kept private
every time I'm by you!
This my second album, I'm back with the hits (Wit' the hits)
On the Rise was a hit, but this shits the illest (It's the illest)
ain't got to get all extremely too personal on your albums
When you not surrounded by bigger artists to fucking boost you
Nigga you called me, I didn't
scratched but I don't got nails
Got my own truck but I want to drive trails
Plus I won a house in ATL and that depends on my sales
And I'm tryin' to get
crisis that I'm in
Don't chime in
Front block like a line men
No longer co-sign it
Album two, you'll get what that line meant
Clearing shit up just like my
I walked through the door with you, the air was cold
But somethin' 'bout it felt like home somehow
And I left my scarf there at your sister's house
a resurrection at box
Religious, intervenous, take my name in vain
Clinically insane, hold secrets
Mentally slain for their repentance by the government
Hold
the house & he brought his man with him
I leave rap in a state of shock
Where to rock, from the figures still
Play the block with my niggas
Ill lush,
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