Lyrics:
Comin down the 'vard
Actin hard, not fraud
Comin through Po-yo gotta yella broad
Automatic hoe, gotta yella hoe
Comin through the boulevard can't rock
Some cats grow by the laws of the wild
Some learn slower and lag in the mud
Some stand up in defense of a style
Some let the big dogs eat them up
Punk-rock, new-wave, and soul
Pop music, salsa and rock and roll
Calypso, reggae rhythm, and blues
Master mix those number one tunes
Play that
Punk-rock, new-wave, and soul
Pop music, salsa and rock and roll
Calypso, reggae rhythm, and blues
Master mix those number one tunes
Play that
Posse in this motherfucker to rock on this funky ass beat we're gonna drop
Alright, So Ice Cube, you the early bird on this motherfucker , run it
[Ice
Iceberg Simpson!
Seven butt-nakeds sippin' drank in my sauna
Only fuck with hoes who rock Dolce & Gabbana
Only fuck with hoes who rock Dolce
satisfied with one plate, bae give me seconds
Dont be embarrassed by a queef its a gift from heaven
Bad bitches be poor as hell, just give me sevens
Laughing
The legitimately real organic way
By thinking about everything
That I want and by proving
To you I can get it
I got it
I rock it
My intellect incredibly strong
So
at any second with the high stakes
Drama, the game's teeth sharp like pirahana
There's a million style biters who try to create
Make no mistake real niggaz
and dreads (uh-huh)
Bounce (bounce), rock (rock), roller-skating
On them twenty inch tires with the platinum Daytons
I'm not that B-G popping all that junk
Punk-rock, new-wave, and soul
Pop music, salsa and rock and roll
Calypso, reggae rhythm, and blues
Master mix those number one tunes
Play that
a ghetto nigga's lullabye
A seven-deuce full of niggaz goes by
Thought I was trippin the second time they rolled, by
Recognized the plates, the faces
circumstances
Lately, I been fed up with people
Ain't no second chances
I been standing tall next to god
By the Ten Commandments
You gone risk it all for dawg
But
was originally
Scheduled to be released last
Year, but it was pushed back
By Meek's label, Atlantic
After he was sentenced to
Six months in prison
(He
deckin', rubber neckin' in my tomb
Check it out yo, I smile like Groucho Marx
I make a joke, hokey pokey, and slide by like egg yolk
Play me like a punk like
no headlights on
Burning candles
Singing punk rock songs
Levi jackets and the way you smile
Fighting feelings haven't felt for a while
Hold your breath
a thousand times
Those seven days a thousand
Moments with her, now they're all a blur
Except for every second and every word
Every drop of rain, every single
don't give a fuck that he paid
I don't give a fuck how much he weigh
Niggas die every fuckin' day
Broad daylight, hit a nigga with the K
By myself, I'm
thinking I can save all
The saints who forgot
How to pick a weapon apart with your teeth
In a dark alley blind
When the targets retreat
Park, repeat,
a grand
Gold on my neck, my pistols close at hand
I'm a self-made monster of the city streets
Remotely controlled by hard hip-hop beats
But just living in
than I haven't
We stayed up smoking rocks til after seven
You reminded me there's no tweaker heaven
Let's get another ounce down by the quays right now
Radio, fuck you! Radio, fuck you!
Wait a second, you saying? ayy, ayy
Wait a second ayy, ayy
Is it radio fuck you? That's
What you say? Exactly
Not fuck
They can use they dick for a pencil
I'm known for snatchin' purses
And bombin' churches
I get more pussy by accident than
Most niggas get on purpose
I
Coming down the 'vard
Acting hard, not fraud
Coming through, Poyo gotta yellow broad
Automatic ho, gotta yella ho
Coming through the boulevard, cash, rock
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