Lyrics:
they lied whoever said sky was the limit
There is no limit or format available
Prophetic words and they are playable
Vengeance is mine and y'all gon' pay
Me, Keebo, and Reed, who you know, hotter
That's not debatable, we in the game
But you can't control us, we're non-playable, so level up
I'm at a level
To them boys in blue y’all bleed like we do.
Second Amendment Rights come strap like the Military. Protect the minds by any means necessary
(B MOR 7)
When I'm alone with you Fear is all that's here
It's then you remind me You're always by my side
It can not be completely But you're anytime
Ooh,
jazz called rap
Where it's at, bring it back
Because it is an ill format
(Repeat)
Once upon a time not long ago
When all the cats went to hear
date M6, photographs on Columbia/Ruffhouse description green
with blue ears sky blue shirt that work by remote controls
Burn up Billboard charts,
fools want up in my shoes
But after fucking with me
They're givin' up rap, and they're singin' the blues
Me and DJ Train dropping bombs like a P2
So
jazz called rap
Where it's at, bring it back
Because it is an ill format
(Repeat)
Once upon a time not long ago
When all the cats went to hear
[Chorus: x2]
I hate it when it's too many niggas, not enough hoes
Too many rookies, not enough pros
The game got switched on some Ludacris shit
Some cats grow by the laws of the wild
Some learn slower and lag in the mud
Some stand up in defense of a style
Some let the big dogs eat them up
up a step
But I ain't banking on my moves or getting by on my rep
Shit, yo this is harder than I thought it be
I'm 20 years deep in this game and no
severe, on the steel wheels he lends me
Spontaneous cuts, but not mainly just that
It's the scratching format, exact with maddening accuracy
Craftily,
night by the side of the road I was thinking about the nearest phone. I was wondering if she would accept the charges, I was wondering if I had a banana
sweeter than Damita Joe
She act conceited tho and I'm a get deleted yo
I'm not a musician, but I play a instrument
The ragin' bull handle any kind
sweeter than Damita Joe
She act conceited tho and I'm a get deleted yo
I'm not a musician, but I play a instrument
The ragin' bull handle any kind
the real from here
And the real from there
And make it Mo' Better like Blues everywhere
YaknowhatI'msayin? Dynamic Duo times two bro
Fucking
bare butt like fools
But where does this leave the ones shooting for the moon, not affected by cartoons and cereal
These the fans I’m talking to
Flown
so ass
Damn, I'm a pass on that
Oh you made a song? I don't think I saw it
What it sound like? I already forgot it
Every format play bring out a new
fools want up in my shoes
But after fucking with me
They're givin' up rap, and they're singin' the blues
Me and DJ Train dropping bombs like a P2
So
girls real shit
They'd rather I lie to 'em
Cause it's not what they wanna hear
Gotta say goodbye to 'em
It's my rhythm I move to the
Beat of my own drum
the morning
I need an iced out watch that shit is dormant
I'm breaching through, you follow the format
Just watch your feet, right by the doormat
Brand new whip
Unearthly
Other-wordly
From Krypton
Or heaven sent
Fine as gallery art
Stronger than 1%
Baby, I'm not these other earthlings
Peep the format
Then
not a bird
But his eye is on the sparrow
I know that
Jersey like a throwback
Niggas watch me then they copy paste on the format
I just duck and weave
shootin'
So fuck your format, dreary forecast
I'm not for that, cop a four pack
Pedal to the floormat
Life is a highway and I'mma speed on it
Grass over here
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