Lyrics:
your career and leave you drowned
Congrats on the 10k albums sold
How many did you sell yourself
You sold out for a quick buck chuck
But it won't last
They said how he can't draw but he still painting pictures
From a civic to a foreign watch em lane switch it
Yea he tried spilling his thoughts
corona
And I may have just thrown a
A little bit of shade and damn I made a whole thirty minute album
Flying higher than a falcon
Man I make a beat, then
Uh, say what?
Uh, say what?
Uh, say what?
Uh, say what?
1, 2, 1, 2
I be that man they call Timbaland
On these funky beats right here you hear him?
to Church Then
Follow Me an
It's Dance With The Devil Time
Ride a Wave Catch a Barrel
He's Mine
Whip a Current
Surf it an Ripa Beat
Spit Fire an Smoke till
the fuck you come back and adapt?
My homie just got Hodgkin's Lymphoma
I'm praying every day hoping he gonna beat it
Strong motherfucker on the phone with
Bezzy back to back eyyo
Outfit black on black eyyoAlbum track by track eyyo
Everybody outside the hood tell a friend
Iseb ist jetzt back he is back he is
I be lookin' like bye-bye
By the way, namaste, where your momma stay?
Tell her Ronnie comin' round the way, lucky day
I be comin' with the God body
Me
to your indictment
Whether or not you like it, still, number one I hype it
Your album, rewrite it
How many MC's, wannabemceez
Never be MC's, cause
music's best
I cruise for the press like
Who's gonna make an album this good?
Daddy, yes
He's the best and it's two six now
Still no one's testin', most
the heat to kids
They'll riddle thru ur ligaments, I'm on my E.Nygma shit
Speak of which, riddle me this
Why do u wreak of fish
And love getting beat by
And you know lighting up the b foreal
Yeah
Then dat Michael Myers come out
You heard me
Imma let You niggas Know Tho
I aint just on no singing on da album
Swanging out the ride
Gripping like the tires
It's album number 6 and I still got em by the neck and shit
Another album
More drip
So I got a new necklace
Ion
beat up your Nan
I hide behind cars and lorries and jeeps,
hiding from the law when they clean the streets.
He hates society and he's on remand
He's
rubbing my back
He whispered to me "my old town road money running thin
I need a new hit by midnight I got approval from Em"
They dragged me into the studio
Bring it in
Once upon a time there was a brotha named Kastro
Had a little problem with his cash flow
More than once his friend'd tell me he had
performed two songs and most hate it
I'm despised by the heavens, my tombstone is post-dated
I told flex he had to wait to get my album, but I guess he
You only good as yo last album
You ain't fucking with my worst album
I know you heard me like Max volume
Probably thought I wouldn't pass by you
Search
beat from the pocket now
And the crumbs on the face how I love the cake
That one thing you supposed to do
You look around it’s wherever you look
But
z
I guess by now you can tell you miss me
The baddest motherfucker in rap history
One to the temple put you out your misery
That's not an album
And things they didn't allow
And that's just so they just cool us down
And then I know they stole 'em down, uh
Do you beat your kids?
Do you read to your kids?
it's part of my character that I wanna put in a film with David Lynch
I showed my friend Jon Twin Peaks and Eraserhead, he really got into it and said it
cartwheels
Cause they said they played they parts well
Now they claim caviar, hate that oxtail
Lambda Sigma Phi badge on lapel
Whitey always tell him, "Ooh
He
Nottz on the beat
Somethin' sneakerheads usually leave in the box on the feet, hold up
That's right, rappers back on the chopping block
Either fact is
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