Lyrics:
Good God Almighty like back in
The old days you know, years ago
They had the A&R men to
Tell you what to play
How to play it and you know whether
Ain't no love in Oakland, bitch
Niggas always talkin bout 'I love you'
But ain't no love, bitch
Now it's a shame, I can't be saved by John
beat go
I'm B.O.B. in beast mode
I'm the boss you just can't beat
Even if you got them cheat codes
Yeah I got that mean flow
Where I be my team go
I ball
Put some respect on my name, and put some respect on my game
They tryna test me like I'm Johnny, they tryna take out my flame
Put some respect on my
but now I'm on some new shit
I ain't playing with 'em I'm just stepping up my game
I'm a ball hard and the team do the same
Snatch a young bitch yeah
back to the old school?
Vinyl that bitch fuck a Pro Tools
Man I been moved on she is old news
Reminiscing still thinking bout' my old crew
Man can we
I'm just another Russell Group punk
Just another Distrokid kid
Just another dime-store Tom Verlaine
Waiting for my 15 seconds of fame
When the child
on the road
Searching for the dragon balls
They got to get it
That special beam make 'em go
Make 'em sing like a piccolo
I'm chilling on the island
Me and Roshi
yelling, "Woo"
So before you die let's see who can out-petty who
With your corny lines (Slim you're old)
Ow, Kelly, ooh, but I'm 45 and I'm still
ain’t boning no fish
On my mama I should’ve been blew Color of the Benz blue
Don’t fuck with them old hundreds nigga like his Bens blue
Bad bitch sitting
(come on, come on, come on)
Tell by my attitude that I'm most definitely from
In New York (ayy, ah-ha) (uh, yeah)
Concrete jungle (yeah) where dreams
this thing apart
Like them dirty ass gym socks
Hot paroled though bro
Fuck probation
And fuck the waiting
Spit game this kid going to rape it
Ain't none
Cheer up, it might never happen
Drive-by shootings on the streets of Clapham
Jackboots booting right across the map
And daddy's gone 'a looking
at the record shop, coppin old school vinyl, golden era, I know, 93 and heiro
life like slidin, you wanna know who ridin, crawl before you ball, less you stall
Bone
And I Need Maxwell
Good Pain In Da Road
Jump To A Dealer
Me Dad Wid Da Old
I Need Weeked
Cause I Waste It On Da Road
Yer
[Bridge:]
Kick Ball
Kick
on airplanes like B.o.B
Canibus, Wu-Tang, you know our history but hats off
When we rap this Jack Frost we outline the track chalk
Thank God for the one-two
nigga (Believe it Scrap What Up Tom G Ahhh, Yeah)
Florida nigga,
Georgia nigga
Florida nigga,
Georgia nigga
Down by law is you a pussy or a soldier nigga?
run it by the boy like the ball getting tucked
Look, I don't do two's (Nah)
I don't do dubs less you talking win or lose (No no no, no, no)
If all
by my attitude that I'm most definitely from
Don't you know, don't you know (ayy)
New York was killing me?
Yes, I was standing nearly dying here
old to understand the
Way the games told
You're lame so I gotta hit
You with the hot facts
Once I released, I'm makin' millions, na
Top that they wanna
forgot how to rap
Call DJ Bobcat and ask him where them old records at
Like Channel Five karate, my kick is gonna reach ya
A new episode where
to Bobbito the Barber
Gimme them medals back, since you forgot how to rap
Call DJ Bobcat and ask him where them old records at
Like Channel Five karate, my
petty crooks
And I will learn by studying the lessons in my dreams
So turn off the TV, 'cause that's what others see
And movies are as bad as eating
could make my ball sac bob like a yo-yo
Give it up, give it up, southwest looney tune
Killed another redneck, found his head in looney doon
Gooney
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