Lyrics:
tell no time
Look I'm (yeah)
Lookin for my dinner so you beginners is dealin' with a winner
Yeah I'm somethin' like a king to the jungle like Simba
I
Uh
I exist
Spoken in a confident voice
Can worlds shift in continent hoist
Look under for the plunder
A rich man's song that gets sung for a sum
on me jack
Now I'ma act a damn fool and I ain't never comin back
King Mack-A-Hoe, Sir Break-A-Bitch
Grab my pimp glass and then I take a sip
I look
Not ever. To all those who supported our campaign, I'm humbled by the faith you placed in us. To all those who did not support us, let me say this. Hear
And I'ma tell you how the shit gon' see (gon' C)
Now if I wasn't rappin motherfucker why'all be starvin
On my nuts without bucks like Marvin
You can't
You can look us up me and carl, boy we ran the summer
Why you looking at me like you trying to pull that thang or something
Why the fuck you round here
your seat at?
Where your plate, where your lobster, where your sea bass?
We ain't never left, acting like we back
You should see us now taking pictures
tell my siblings the news
You know, I seen this, this, this green cloud just kinda
Just kinda hover over us for a lil' bit
You know, so when I, when
and rolling blunts almost every sesh
I'm still up in here
I'm hanging by a thread
11/29 passed 32 is dead
Okay so now we get into it
October I move us in
I was
The streets is mad right now (tell em' why we mad!)
Rappers whatever you call yourselves pack your bags and get outta town
'Cause I'ma strike down
its minuscule
But then them minutes pool
Then them seconds turn to months and years of random flowers
See what I did right there
Let 'em judge us by our
a big body
Solid as rock
No can't shit stop me
You know that Drama got Sauce aye
You know that Drama go off
Everybody wanna fuck with the kid
Now you
And now Ladies & Gentlemen, Lupe Fiasco
Filet mignon with my food stamps
Car cosigned by my mama
Medical card from Obama
Background check for
look at The Birth of
Black America by Andrew Frank
Take that to the bank
Let me rock again, hip-hop again
Check out Africa: Mother of Western
Um, yeah palms sweating guess it's time for the murder
My nigga my nerve, I swerve left you dead on the curb
Tell his family get them black clothes
the road I grew up by
And I see the game like an umpire
Motherfuck one time, and everything combine
I am the boss I have a nigga
Tell ya bout the gun line
show
We're running behind so we gotta go"
He said "Marty, I tell you what you do.
You just go on back down there and you make us proud
And remember
back and pull strings
Yeah yeah
Used to have that fuckin' title by name
Yeah yeah now that's nothin' but some
Fire to my flame, Yeah yeah
You ain't
Beijing Biden
Words and Music by William Lake,
Verse 1
Beijing Biden IS A Chinese Bitch
They got him on a Special leash He do what Zhi Zhi
Jim Jones and them don't bother me man
Wendy Williams love me now
She was talkin' she didn't bother me
Dipset definitely don't bother me
Who else
Interrogation of applicant 7-24
Interpreting, Carter Lee
You are advised your right to admission to this country will be today considered by this
And again now
You need love like I do, don't you?
I can tell by the way you look when I'm looking at you, well, well, well, well
You need love like I do,
Written by: Dèja D. Williams
Produced by: Shahid Elamin, Dèja D. Williams
Yea
Dèja
I can see
That you been watching me for a minute now
to give you
Then mind not such trifle's affect
Oh, why should the likes of them grieve you?
And now boys, come tip us the deck"
Well, the cards being
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