Lyrics:
bout dam, mi a worry bout miself and mi picky
live life to the fullest nah men the pussy ole dam trick mi
(no way) mi have some real friend by mi side
a bunch of junk that never took off
Maybe it's for the best
My pops said it best
He said it's blending in with all the rest
Time moves by and my corpse will
though I admire your desire
You a sellout lil nigga a Lyricist for hire/hip hop circus act my special skill is spitting fire
Big dawg status men these
it's all a scam wallai
The other day men I swear I saw a Lambo
At the toll gate getting scratched by a danfo
I thought of life stay humble as you plan
mature, I'm so mature
I'm so mature, I got me a therapist to tell me there's other men
I don't want none, I just want you
If I can't have you, no one
mature, I'm so mature
I'm so mature, I got me a therapist to tell me there's other men
I don't want none, I just want you
If I can't have you, no one
to the West.
Cho: I give you the gallant old West, boys,
Where rallied our bravest and best
When Ireland lay broken and bleeding;
Hurrah for the men of the West!
to the West.
Cho: I give you the gallant old West, boys,
Where rallied our bravest and best
When Ireland lay broken and bleeding;
Hurrah for the men of the West!
irie, peep
Pump ya best if ya irie, like me
Cause we don't want know si-ren, hey
Nuff a rhyme works, nobody gets hurt
Look up on the dancefloor
Herd
Take in a movie and sit in the rear
I might be in the studio hard at work
Making hype tracks that sell by the stacks
When it gets dark, I chill with
down by law and I know my way around
On 42nd Street, lookin' for some action
Women standing on the corner selling satisfaction
One young punk just
schochkies on the breakfront of life.
I'll never forget the first time I found these girls,
Selling their papayas on 42nd Street. So flushed, so filthy.
humans
We like to be wined and dined by candle light
Not being couped up in the house trying to be held up tight
So jazzy jeff and fresh prince don't mean
friends down
Until ya family up"
If I bring the fish by they cookin'
It's a fish fry
My friends make the fish fly but
They ain't playin' Candy Crush
I don't
sir
Critics went beszerk they ain't even heard my best work
See I broke into the mind by
Quietly goin by their eardrum walls and hotwired they skulls
down by law and I know my way around
On 42nd Street, lookin' for some action
Women standing on the corner selling satisfaction
One young punk just
you go inside just to realize
Either you're weak or someone lied
See, you spend more time boasting about
What you do than you do
So by the time your
please take your aim at me
Cherish the thought
Of always having you here by my side
Cherish the joy
You keep bringing it into my life
Cherish your
the crackas that buy the album what's the plottin' about? (whats it about)
Many men make a wish but we ain't many men (uh uh)
So you gon' get death when we
I am learning English as a 2nd language
On the bus journey back home to my family
In the west end of this city
Where I was told that we could live
schochkies on the breakfront of life.
I'll never forget the first time I found these girls,
Selling their papayas on 42nd Street. So flushed, so filthy.
the nomads, moving from Limpopo to Togo, uh
This is for the politicians, the aristocrats, the town clerks.
This for the Maasai, Sub-saharan beading works
implosion
Your whole chest and your world caved in
They completely gave in, they just sparks and brave men
Did ya say that?
Record execs wanna push the album
as fellow men. cnd surely we can begin to work a little harder to bind up the wounds among us and to become in our own hearts brothers and countrymen once
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