Lyrics:
of a master
You never thought you'd be bodied by a bastard
A bachelor who backspin on breakbeats
Break necks of broke souls who hate me
Hate he? you can't
niggaz and by the way all my niggaz move boulders
Like Barney rubble any trouble free muffle the gat
I'm young and black with a chip on my shoulder
Its
a beef nigga bring it on
Cause when I'm done it'll be my dick that you're swingin on
From the way I say my rap clear
I make people more excited than
versions by Peggy Lee (# 2), Bing Crosby
(#14), and Burl Ives (# 21) were all charted as just "Riders In the Sky"
Later, The Ramrods took it to # 30 in
and my man Rick got millions of gold albums
(That's a lie) I'm gettin' cold money every day
(You're a liar)
You'll need a wheel barrow for all that shit in
down to play with my children
Now I got bands, I'm playin' with millions
But, I can't lie and say, "I don't miss you"
Knowin' the I'm Him album
owners I just mentioned. Ceasar later married a slave girl by the name of Peggy Jones. My great, great, etc. grandmother. To this union, the following
Girls in cages swingin' from the fucking ceiling
From the surface i fell
Straight to the bowels of hell
And you know what, baby, Oh, well
I got no soul
deckin', rubber neckin' in my tomb
Check it out yo, I smile like Groucho Marx
I make a joke, hokey pokey, and slide by like egg yolk
Play me like a punk like
in that bentley baller?
Welcome to Compton!
Check my pockets, all green like the slossin
Don't even count it
It's all there like Peggy lee partner
A SUPERSTAR QUEEN
WE HAD A LITTLE CAT GOT STUCK IN A TREE
SO WE PLAYED HIM A RECORD BY PEGGY LEE
HE SAID WHO IS THAT WOMAN? GOTTA MAKE HER MY WIFE GIVE HER TEN
album went six thousand on niggas
In Kansas City alone, we packed the dome with Mike and Liddy alone
In the west side, Lee Jone, Milly Mal, I left you
a year to two years actually. By the
time you lot are listening to this, which is February, I mean as we know Can I Play With Madness was
released the 2nd
They
'boutta hit this muhfuckin' album
(Oh oh-Oh, yeah yeah yeah yeah, whoa)
Yeah-Yeah-Yeah-Yeah
I done seen a lot of things, yeah yeah
Nowadays, sit
freak on your album cover jocks
You're gonna hear a real ill paragraph soon
I took the cover right home to the bathroom
In the immortal words
freak on your album cover jocks
You're gonna hear a real ill paragraph soon
I took the cover right home to the bathroom
In the immortal words
freak on your album cover jocks
You're gonna hear a real ill paragraph soon
I took the cover right home to the bathroom
In the immortal words
to fever in June
As smooth as honey our bodies collide
Your legs and fingers tangled in mine
I could be here all day with you by my side
And add some Peggy
neckin' in my tomb
Check it out yo, I smile like Groucho Marx
I make a joke, hokey pokey, and slide by like egg yolk
Play me like a punk like Penguin
need a week
And by that time I done made bout 2 albums
And proceed to leap, CookUp
These niccas make believe
Kitchen Murder came to fill the vacancy
neckin' in my tomb
Check it out yo, I smile like Groucho Marx
I make a joke, hokey pokey, and slide by like egg yolk
Play me like a punk like Penguin
neckin' in my tomb
Check it out yo, I smile like Groucho Marx
I make a joke, hokey pokey, and slide by like egg yolk
Play me like a punk like Penguin
friction when I flex up the jaw to hit the joint
That can actually give a blood mob like Gotti
Like the body cool keep the strap up by the naughties
quads
I see through your façade, nah you're just a big old sod
Tryna respond to what we caused by bringing out your squad
But we just dodge your odd
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