Lyrics:
performing it in schools, that I do not condone smoking. Guitars on this track, and on three other tracks on the album, are by Daniel Tan, my long-time
Roses are red, violets are blue
Your ass looks phat and I wanna feel it too
Pardon me miss, don't mean to get you confused
But Could it be that
are open , I hear you calling me
I hear you calling me..
I hear you calling me..
Ohh......
From the album "Gravity's Rainbow"
Written by: N.
Holy
You can catch the shekana breezing'
By whoever disses Christ than
Bowed and seize 'em
He's holy, man, the culture needs him
And can't define life,
I don't play around, nor do I f around
And you can tell by the
Bodies that are left around
When some clown jumps up to get beat down
Broken down
in the shells like a taco that's what he ate
You went to work but you aint seen him yo homie
I snuck in his crib and I shot him bitch you are
One mental block lead to another, shit it's dominos
Mixtape Sean, but I'm in album mode, ooh
She give me praise, I love her angel face
Ass so fat she
I'm lookin' through the face of God
I can't even begin to understand why I'm so odd
Did everythin' I could to fit in, man, I really tried, but was
And motherfolkin' caviar
He did a terrible thing, finally got away with it
I'm nervous, I'm nervous
Open a new chapter
Are you ready to be swallowed up by my
straight
Burnouts in a closed space
Still blow the O's, but it's no vape
Homie album like a mixtape
Now he follow orders that I dictate
Chances are you gon'
I like this mother fucker here
This my shit
This one my favorite shits off the whole Ep
Turn me up a little bit
In my headphones bro
Yeah
This
my ep drop won't be celebrated
But shit
I'm getting love from different places
Difference faces, rotting for me to win this races
So I fasten ma laces
[ea-ski]
Its kinda funny niggaz running up
Trying to show me much love
Cause a motherfucker just dropped an album
Now they wanna kiss ass
But hold up
black tux, binocular
Black luxe, stop it I shouldn't be so popular
Name keep poppin' up face keep poppin' up
On the tube I'm just watchin' Pacquaio box
I've been giving a lot of hidden messages
Don't you miss it
I don't care whether you are making music in a studio
Or record radio album in your mom's
my girlfriend,
You're just another link, I don't care what you think
When I die, don't bury me, burn me,
By the way things are goin', I might die
(Fuck all you hoes! Get a grip, motherfucker!)
Yeah, this album is dedicated
To all the teachers that told me I'd never amount to nothin'
To all
word
God, I hate this art form so much
And this album is just getting increasingly incoherent by the minute
And yeah, you're right, we actually put
Face off
You gotta take it off (Hala Hala)
Face off
You gotta take it off (Hala Hala)
Face off
You gotta take it off (Hala Hala)
Nigga take your
Face off
You gotta take it off (Hala Hala)
Face off
You gotta take it off (Hala Hala)
Face off
You gotta take it off (Hala Hala)
Nigga take
about?
I think he terrible, music unbearable
Rippin off Mase with that look on his face (oh man)
I rest my case
Kalis, wow, I hate her so much right
are subliminal, sometimes metaphysical
I teach, not preach, you want a challenge? I'll start dissin you
I go philosophical by topical
Hearin the call,
put you in the right mind
Light shines on my spirit, you just getting side lined
NO 2 your album, something like a nitrite
Man I'm far too smart to go
The shot-gun kicked, and it murdered motherfuckers
I told you last album
When I got a sawed off, bodies are hauled off
Its a shame, that niggas die young
But
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