Lyrics:
To landscape Fantasia into sheet music
Its Mona Lisa hand painted by a glee student
Imagination translated, I speak fluent
This here is the soundtrack
me and Bob Marley
That we'd need to head to the creek with Chris Farley
Down by the river where my people like to party
Aye, it's like I on't dance
like Cowabunga
Hope you get offended by the way I'm stunting
Won't dive in if I ain't got no rubber
We came from the bottom of the rubble
If they
on-and-and-on-and-on-on-and-on
Like a hot buttered pop-da-pop-da-pop, dibbie dibbie
Pop-da-pop-pop, you don't dare stop
Come alive, y'all, gimme whatcha got
I guess by now
Im well know and its a guarantee
I seen the bets weed in my community
I got a better product that Apple Mac
People queue at my door for my Afghan
girl
I got no time to fool around (Fool around)
You betta stop girl, you betta turn around
Yeah… I’m gonna rock to the rhythm
All the night girl
Rock
'm flying by
UFO taking off
And it's in the sky
New world that I bring
Get ready for my
Thinking of the rhythm
And I know I got the vibe
And all the hot women
Got nothing to die for
Got nothing to light for
Rhyme four twice more
Eight miles of life force
Till I create files and crime for
Police trials and nice
fuck up the bank im tryna fuck up the bank
fuck up the bank im tryna fuck up the bank
Fuck it up fuck it up fuck it up ran out of space i aint got
the beat go
Hit you with something that'll rock ya frame
I feel like an animal
Surrounded by a freakshow
Ready to jump when im out the cage
If they can find
it all
I got a bedroom, every mirror in town
They're going to claim me if I fall
So bob your sweet head
Brother Ziggy going to play
I'm just
it all
I got a bedroom, every mirror in town
They're going to claim me if I fall
So bob your sweet head
Brother Ziggy going to play
I'm just
Sympathy from me cause I’m hollow but got a sick flow
Particles colliding events are taking place
Got the heart of a lion ain’t got no time to waste
Gotta
'm home alone
Hmm
Pretty bitch, nickname my pussy Welch's
Out in Boston, tryna fuck on one them Celtics
I need a nigga like Franklin, not like Elvis
I
suppressed by tyrants
But also by the devil's lies hence why he keeps on testing me but I still got fight left in me
All I needs a lil bit of energy,
I got a chance to grab the mic, I didn't play wit it
Present day, I'm still hungry, rockin' the beats
Stopped making songs for plays and made 'em
what I mean
Flag fellas, you know what I mean
Flag fellas, you know what I mean
Raise this rhythm, bitches, tease them
Howl up and we will beat them
around me
(guilt-guilty by association)
I heard you were snitches so
Don't come around me
(guilt-guilty by association)
I heard you talkin lick
Don't talk
I'd have to fold my beard
Check one, two, Sonny, tell Bob to dim the lights up
You see the studs, I want the red strobe to hit it right
Stones are
attacked in
Camouflage and from that, I got a hint of
The power of lyrics to encapsulate magic
Or to spread alarm
Now I have recorded three albums
A few days
to the rhythm
Gangsta, gangsta, gangsta
To the rhythm
Gangsta, gangsta, gangsta
To the rhythm
Gangsta, gangsta, gangsta
Get on Patron, run grab by your
You can hear how I felt
I'm bout that action like my bro bros
Just staying true to myself
I'm making jams on command
Must be the rhythm of Welch
I need
ranger
And if I don't got it with me on DECK
Your gettin CUT like a
Las Vegas' card player
And I ain't playing with you at all bitch
I ain't a dog trainer
to the rhythm of the Body heat
Step by step
Slowly I turn
Step by step
See'mon
Well here I am I got the heat
I'm gonna rock to the rhythm of the Body heat
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