Lyrics:
shorty what you drivin' stoned by your daddy
Oops, you almost had me, geesed up until I saw the truth
And one day I see you standin' at a token booth
It
brought to you by adrenaline and good rap
Black Pendleton ball cap
(West, west, west)
We don't share the same synonym fall back
(West, west, west)
Been
off by sprayin' beer in your face
So the '94 to them, I'm for my niggas that remember
Means I'm steppin' to the mic with lyrics colder than December
Stand by me my sister stand by me now
Having my days and I've seen your ways
Sing it and have it set a nasty craze
So I reach a state
Turn a new page
ah,oh ah, do a walk by and watch everybody die
N****s into gangs thangs and narcotics
Freak b****es riches and hydrolics
Pull heat knock you off yo
production's tight
Sometimes I might catch a severe case of writer's block
But by the end of the day you'll be on my jock
My name's Malik my hobby's putting
And be protected by No Limit tanks, soldiers with K's and hand grenades
Could you recall a soulja that used to be crawlin'
Now I'm ballin', don't plan
of the Flavor Unit
And we are Naughty By Nature, and we will just do, by terminating you
I can snap, rap, pack, click-clack, patter-pat-pat
Take that ass
freestyle burned your written
shit
Soon you'll be in denial, and you're not gonna recall
That I burned you, and I can tell by 21 you'll be bald
I'm off
this y'all
[Verse 1:]
Oh what a feeling! - Drivin' in my four by four
Girlies Galore! - B.I.G. on the door.
Chrome trimming - with the smoke tint
Givin
boy
On the outskirts, of what works
Live those who go for broke, and merk to get merked
Live by the sword and die by the semi
Not part of my ways, but
of times
In K.R West
Can't forget slept with a W fresh
A Big shot upon freestyle from the shit thirty pieces
Let's do this for the people
Let's make
Aw hell nah nigga
We ain't doin' no freestyles
Don't even know how to do that shit
Yeah whatevah
Check it out man, check this one out
I been
I keep on grinding
Until my pockets are fatter than ceelo green
Now I'm back in the hood
Surrounded by fake people I can't trust
Wake up in
niggas
We are capital G
Fresh from the T to the D still
Bringing this funk to the beat
Freestyles coasting a fee, nigga
We playing for keeps
Aw beep beep
My style of rhymin is ancient like Aztecs and Mayans
Because I recognize its all about timin'
Me and my freestyle alliance practicin' African
(Mason)
Picture this, little Fred out there really hittin' licks
By 15 he's locked in jail but no one didn't visit him
It's cool though, 'cause
at Hi-Lite still
UGP on the track, we do a drive by kill, brrrat
Verse 1: Lyricks
Knock knock, who's there? Half of the YOX
Hi-Lite mob with a couple
Kiedy czuję że grunt pod stopami zaczyna osuwać się mi
I chce mną zachwiać to jak znak by przestać ufać ziemi
Już czeka na mnie tratwa chcę odpłynąć
Another episode of a Doggy Dogg tale, you know me well
You know I'm coming by the smell
I'm here when you see the weed smoke in the air
Party
friends for so long bruh
That's why I used to sneak you in the club bruh
Just for that reason right there bruh
Aight bruh, let me just freestyle some
coke, more accountability
For politicians before we shoutin', let's vote
More schools, less prisons, more freestyles, less written
More serious shit
Uh! Backwards!
c'mon! c'mon! c'mon! (c'mon!)
Oh no, struck by greased lightning
F'ed by the same last name, you know what?
China ain't never givin
Bez podpierdółek widzę łapie cię zdziwko
Koniec tematu to klasyk polski hip hop
Pojechałem do Tesca które działa dwa cztery
Kupiłem Notes tam by móc
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