Lyrics:
It's that head bob
Up and down
You gon go around
Throwin money
Acting funny
Baby simmer down
An I ain't wasting no more time
On a you silly clowns
then i'm off slow
Down to Roscoes
I'm the honcho ya'll know
Exactly what I give her
Gotta give her everything she need
And she need some weed
With no
Woke up on Monday to the news that Peaches was dead
Like most everyone, I thought about Bob and how he'd lose his head
You wonder how many times
it, okay?
Nicko: Yeh, he did go the wrong way about it.
Steve: Well then.
Nicko: Well I'm, I, I, I, I tell you what, I mean it ain't gonna happen
the shit that's falling out my mouth
I'm sick with lyrical dysentery
I know how to tickle a clit
With military precision
By dick is buried in bitches
In
y'all ain't hatin'
(Some people hate) Don't tell me niggas is hatin'
(Some people hate) Uh, nah, you know what I think?
(Some people hate) I think
to Texas up to Washington
Then headin' home to wash some clothes and do it all again
Gotta head to Chattanooga, Knoxville, and to VA
To by god West
and even my
Image
My disciples are not even given my pictures
The Savants secretly leak some of my scriptures
But are squashed soon as they're seen by
Can I get an Amen? Woo!
So that's right BoB
When you stand on the shoulders
Of those who came before
You might just see far enough to realize
And by
Now, listen here and grab a seat! (Grab a seat)
We've got some words (Got some words)
That you must heed (That you must heed)
Of how things happen
looking kinda icy
Know your boy sweet like a Hi-C
Got that hammer, I'm Bob The Builder
Talking bout the beat by the way
I am not a killer
24K on the neck
the bigger picture I'll
Put you six feet under
Go to talk to Bob Ross
Painted so vividly
Sold for a Mil a piece
Over in Sicily, Italy
(Top Drop Top drop
Puffing on that shit that Bob Marley did
Snorting up that shit that killed Elvis kid
I'm looking paler than Michael Jackson skin
Living a life like
heavens gates are open
Whenever my time is I dont know when
Till then I just pray they notice
Confused by this world we live in
Dont know if or when Ill
How 'bout we hit the club and
Walk up straight through VIP
How 'bout we get some Puerto
Rican girls and Japanese
How 'bout we get some strippers
They try to feed me meds
But I know the answer's
In myself I just need some sense
Go and bob ya heads
We can vibe all day
We can focus on the words
What
a nin-com-poop, we're in a different group
And if you're feelin' sore bout that then have some chicken soup
You aint a real rapper, you should be held captive
spare time
She don't fuck on the first night, then she don't meet my dead line
Niggas smoking that Bob Marley, that Bob Marley like yeah molly
I'm
crack, crack
If you wanna shoot, give me a second so I can lay flat
'Cause this, some the cemetery's, the reality
Where the tough guys get buried in
make the music, then I made that shit an enterprise
This is dope money, you could say me name is Escobar
Killing all these rappers just became part
Yeah, one two
Yeah, where my nigga Jay Dee?
Where ya at? (Yeah!)
Say you got guns, then bring that shit
Say you got ones, then bring that shit
ones, then bring that shit
Cause you need a lot more ones and guns for this) what?
(to get my man see we bout to spit some) HOT SHIT
Yeah, one two..
Bout
Episode one
Meet my friends
By Kerri Renton
Illustrated by Jason Howe
In the great Australian outback
Where the cowboys and cowgirls live
The night
I done met you long
Before we grew some
Now I been chewed
On but I been boo'd up
When I get too calm like a threat
Gunshot to the head no blood
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