Lyrics:
I told ya fuckin' ass I be back
In a brand new Fleetwood Cadillac
License plate say money makin' nigga fa sho
Chillin' by ya boy house kissin'
Yeah I do it for my team
Yeah I do it for the city
God is good
Blessings fallin' like it's Iggy (oooo)
Yeah they can't stop us
Quick wit the grits we
at festivals.
Spreadin the message
Yeah, that it can be done
That your life and your dreams can come together as one
That if you put it all on the line and jump
Ain't it true now
You need love like I do (don't you)
Boy I can tell by the way you look
When I'm looking at you
Well, well, well you need love
a new friend, you can spend quality time by the hour.
Your dreams can come true
If you want it, in Canoga Park
etiquette
I'm definitely very inspired by that, man
I appreciate you and everything you do
Shout out to Gonzalo
Shout out to motherfuckin' Malcolm
Nigga, who
shooting for Georgia Tech, like my name was Eddie Elisma
Doing this thing these boys can't mess with me, these boys can't test me
What's left to see, is
I am j Becker, hmm aye
You can't fuck with me move
Too high for all these hoes
Go fuck another bro
I make more than you fool
I know I am the best
One
scare my fears with my Bravery
Can never act nice I'm a tough guy
I only respect the most high
Dreams move on
They got no vacation
Ghetto boy thinking
you
Strapped up in church
Cause I can't trust the preacher
Pain anger fear darkness all in your heart boy
Dreams will he live them
Or get called in
dreams.
Keep a high-self esteem and you can succeed.
(repeat hook)
To all the Men woman kids ,little boys and girls
I'm sending Messages of love all across
I told ya fuckin' ass I be back
In a brand new Fleetwood Cadillac
License plate say money makin' nigga fa sho
Chillin' by ya boy house kissin'
of y'all
And if ya immature then I'm out the door
I'm on fire gettin' head by the
Harlem Boys Choir
Dreams, dreams, dreams of fuckin' an R&B dick
I don't recall
What sort of precocious shit I was drawing
A mountain stream
More likely something obscene
When Casey stole
My masterpience, starting
Talk about sleeping
My bed's the set
Not sure about the ending
But it starts when he creeps in
Can't look around
No one's not moving
I'm staring in
a pretty boy
Name me somebody could ever top me at anything
No never me, in any dream, by any means
I think shawty wanna wedding ring
I tell her "please...
wanna hear your
Bad Boys
Bad Boys
Bad Boys
In the mix
I wanna hear your
Bad Boys
Bad Boys
Bad Boys
Yeah yeah
Come on
In the mix
Baby we can make it
If
I know that boy he be kapping
Even though he said he talking his shit
Chef by the pot and it's lit
Don't fuck with the boy, I can't fuck with his
hazey
And ever since a yuet I been living in a day dream
Raised on the block, poor little Casey
Look at how it changed me
Council estate baby
Looking for
of strange
It's never been the same
Since sixteen
Young kid, with big bright dreams
I was writing like every other day
Didn't give a fuck about streams
To all the men woman kids Little boys and girls
I am sending messages of love all across the world
You can be anything Just believe in your dreams
ain't it true now
You need love like I do (don't you)
Boy I can tell by the way you look
When I'm looking at you
Well, well, well you need love
Like
seconds left in the game
The Dream team led by one
They knew if they could freeze the ball
The Jacksons would be done
Just then the four young Jackson boys
going to stop my motion
Not to be boasting
But you can't stop what was already written
Get up off your boy
When you're too generic with your rhythm
_1895-6.jpg/300px-Lautrec_la_troupe_de_mlle_eglantine_(poster)_1895-6.jpg "Can Can")
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