Lyrics:
me offensive
Hence, if I should draw the line or any fences
If so, to what extents, if
Any, should I go? 'Cause it's getting expensive
Being
Lil' Flip]
I told niggas I show niggas, I'm the best
I'm the shit in New York, but I'm a God on the West (holla!)
I must confess, 'The Source' own me two
If I lay low and let the day go it'll slow my payroll
Aye-yo I'm a terrorize charge and slay shows
Ra slay flows go as far as the Barbados
I'm motherfucking chicken-shit
To the ones that's tryna play the E
By the time you get to seven, you'll be six feet deep
Number Eight: Make no
and rose, cause New York niggas
Actin spoiled at shows, to the winners the spoils go
I take the L, transfer to the 2, head to the gates
New York life type
you keep am our love go be sweet yupa yupa yupa
Alright!
Number one you must never never get another boyfriend unless me
Number two you must never never
with you
The Casanova legend must have been true"
I said, "By the way, baby, what's your name?"
Said, "I go by name of Lois Lane
And you could be my
, let's go, yo
Where your girlfriend go
You wanted this to happen, so
You know I had to go and put on a show
Woah, switching the flow man I row like a boat
I'm motherfucking chicken-shit
To the ones that's tryna play the E
By the time you get to seven, you'll be six feet deep
Number Eight: Make no
an audience to a show is a task out of sight
Why would anyone pay 7 quid to see my show standing on a beer-flooded floor
When they can see me for free the next
the braids
Met you on the east side and became your sex slave
Know I'm straight up out da A
The home of the brave
7 months passed by and you still on my wave
you how to be like you,
But you still didn't get where you wanted to go
When you gathered in a group and got your own show
'Cause without
to sleep
Only for Americans
A Frenchman wouldn't be impressed
To see a show with girls undressed
That's only for Americans
The French don't go
They must've forgot I'm an artist
This ain't spoken word or poetry
Still going back to back they knows it's me
Go from track to track reload the beat
on her back say I'm ready to go
Man this girl must be the pimp the way I'm ready to hoe
I wanna take you out the ghetto girl around the globe
Getting
see the agony of absolute power?
And why I must remember precision in all I do?
And the only way I do this is by the magnitude in which I treasure you?!
Seven hundred miles to play to fifteen angry men.
I need some sleep.
They hate the songs.
We hate them too. Yeah.
This show is free.
Fifteen minutes
wake up fine and dandy
But then by the time I find it handy
To rip my heart apart and start
Planning my crash landing
I go up, up, up, up, up
go)
Dope like the pope, Francisco (cisco)
(Shh, be quiet tip-toe) (what?!?)
Five percent tint, my windows
Ten bites from, black widow (widow)
Mark of my
it up
Fuck with me
Must be drunk
Tell a Bitch please hit me when I’m up
I’m Too far gone for your Instagram hoe
got the seven on my back
loyal, niggas cross me, I go off on people
And you wonder why I don't call on people, nah, for real
Yeah, yeah
Over my dead body
Ain't just "Fuck
Show out for the girls and get your ass whipped
On some 8th grade, right front of the class shit
You gon' try to test me but I'mma pass it
I'm
not to go in, and then she used some toys and the boys were going wild for her like we got someone really good, who would talk and show us some pussy
the roof
Raise the roof because it's all on fire
Not done by the sun or electrical wire
Not done by sons stricking matches with
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