Lyrics:
thats a perfect release
Bought my bands, all my friends are deceased
Ten toes down but I got me a piece
I'm making money by rapping on beats
They be
by the 9
Fuck the dumb shit, I run this, a whole life of crime
Ain't never had shit, but always had my pistol, bitch
187, don't make me whistle, bitch
county buck wild flow
You like R Kelly? You like
What he produced through?
Well ya, I like to bump and grind too
Feel me
Conversating, not tripping where
And sent it back if I ever seen a seed, man
And you don't even gotta ask
You know it by the smell
I treat every day like it's a payday
Top down, counting
must be crazy, nigga
Onе song for my deluxe is all I need to do
These puppies barkin'
They done bit off more than they can chew
My album just dropped
I'm
Nine eleven Porsche same color as cranberry sauce
I ain't gon' front, I thought R. Kelly was the shit
Let me find out he fucking 'round with Bow Wow
Real hitman shoot in a tie
My chopper R Kelly believe he can fly
I let the rouger up like 4th of July
I’m taking royal pain, this ain’t Sky High
I
back to hypocritically
Perpetuating the image been creating of a prima donna
Wasn't even around back then
But everyday the more I see
Makes me feel like
doin
Woolly kat Wat you doin
R kelly Wat you doin
Mighty mo Wat you doin
Garry glitta Wat you doin
Tiger Wat you doin
Gun man Wat you doin
So get it Wat
my hunger back
Matter of fact, it never left
I'm still ghetto like futsek
And no matter who you are, you got a dream
And you got to chase it
Remember
Yeah on behalf of Chamillitary Entertainment
I'd like to extent my deepest apologies
To anyone who feels they are offended by the following content
provider, the fly divider
Romeo, jiggalo, high-yellow niggaro
From the sound of Mount V., by the way of J-A
I don't play, I insist, on the back twist
of the best directors in the country
Like Harve, Ar T (?), Cazh (?), and the MacDonald brothers Luke and Nick
Around 2010, I started working with a guy by
or LL Cool J
Or in my bedroom with a swell dame
Half naked, sweating, freaking to R. Kelly’s Twelve Play
I’m talking bout high school dances
Grinding
an opinion
That is out of line
With the status quo at least
You are allowed to be
Objectified by men and dress like a slut
But don’t own
Your sluttiness and do
gonna stop
Just like genders, all over the shop
Boris is stressed, look at his belly
Virus hitting strong, just like R Kelly
Lockdown 1, 2 and 3
Everyone
Dirty bird is back again
He go too down inserting his 10
Leave the streets no alibi
Back was blowing helly tire
Wanted by the F.B.I.
Walk your town
I came up from nothing my slatt
Hit up record on the track
Ain't no one better than that
I'm back to makin' my stacks
Eat up a beat like a snack
Holyfield start fighting
It'll make Ma$e say fuck church and go back to writing
It'll make Shyne say he sound like Biggie Smalls
It'll make R. Kelly, give
I'm recordin' that shit on
The fuckin' little mic
By the little camera thing on
The fuckin' Mac book
So this shit is choppy and bad quality
But fuck
nutt
Bitches scared to let me smash on they ass
Yeah they heard I'm fuckin' nuts like the swag of a fag
Like me and Tekeli was gagging in the back
the city when its 30 below
I be surrounded by angels, these are not no crows
I'm breathin' life not death, but shoutout Edgar Allen Poe
I'd rather read
a motherfuckin' decent Honda
I'll say that only albums are dying
The way I'm saying it's slowly dying
I mostly play the whole album like 72 Seasons
Motherfuckers
the mastermind behind you, manipulating you(U)
It's a fair game, You have to play by the rule, reallly yeah?(Oh oh)
I said so much about this song(Uh uh)
The album
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