Lyrics:
I mean this; you seen this
Blue steel fo'fo'; the caliber - Excalibur
I'm a destroy my next challenger
B. Rob, high post emcee
Quick to spray Raid
folks
And everybody knows my name
Now table three that's B. Grund
And table four that's G-One
You best be prepared
'Cause it's all a game you
And everybody knows my name
Now table three that's B. Grund
And table four that's G-One
You best be prepared
Cause it's all a game you know
Come
Foul style galore, verbal cow manure
Comin' together like an eyebrow on Al B. Sure
made
I knew every single record the DJ's played
A honky tonk a Hound Dog, a Johnny B. Goode
Chain Gang, Love Is Strange, Knock On Wood
I was raised
the teachers, even more by polices
How'd he get the cash? The day his father passed away
Left him with a lil' somethin, 16 he was stuntin
Al B. Sure nigga with
with Mrs. L. B. Jones
And if he keeps making fancy passes
I'll start holding evening classes
I'll give him sugar and molasses
And the life, I live
with Mrs. L. B. Jones
And if he keeps making fancy passes
I'll start holding evening classes
I'll give him sugar and molasses
And the life, I live
zone
I don't give a damn about a hater, I'm goin'
Eyes on the motherfuckin' prize and
I won't get disturbed and come down from my throne
B. Hood,
ask me shit, make me lie to you motherfucker
Man truth is for real, feel like Dre and Pharrell
Mixed with Eric B. and Rakim, shawty hell on the scale
naked
Four pound to ya crown like, "Where the paper?"
B. Sig, cold crook, I trap paper like notebook
When the hot water disappear like when coke cook
B. r. o. k. e. n
Broken till the am
Don’t feel bad I sayin
on knees I’m prayin
ain’t tryna sell to satan
Back and forth I’m pacing
Switching lanes
Parks
Who never has known love
Her parents died when she was three
And moved in with and B.
Auntie B. is mean
Has five cats, and sleeps during the days
I hops in the hubba hubba bubba I'm like
Al B. stud, cause if I'm not your lover or your friend
Don't try to spend, waste your time
Tryin'
you don't smell a vape
We the party
Smoke a lot of weed, B. Marley
If you meddle with the cheese, he tardy
Time to kill, indeed, see Carly
I don't
leave an impression
And ruin you, like I'm the Bill Clinton scandal
Impeach em, then I Erick can b. president
Pass a law, hardcore in the residence
for Sonny Bono
Beat is for Yoko Ono
Run-DMC first said a DJ could be a band
Stand on its own feet, get you out your seat
Beat is for Eric B.
tell me what I'm not
Who are you, tryna tell me who I am?
Tryna box me in, tryna find who I am
She Queen of Nzinga
Winnie Mandela, Ida B. Wells
Oh well, oh well, I feel so good today
We touched ground on an international runway
Jet propelled back home, from over the seas to the U. S. A.
two-toned shoes,
And I can sing the blues.
[Chorus:]
Look out, kids, it's the F. B. I.
We got a problem, you keep me high.
Put on your clothes, take
name bitch)
M-m-m-masterpiece
The design of this rhyme is a masterpiece (say my name bitch)
B. Boy claiming that they got water, as salaam alaikum
In them low cut Frankie B.'s with the panties peekin' out 'em
With a booty that big, and her stomach rock solid
On Rodeo Drive, walkin' in her
outta line and I'ma give ya the blues, whoa!
Guess who's bizack?
The boy B. Mizack, a.k.a. Mr. Crack-A-Brick
Turn a whole one from a half a brick,
is back and Rick A. Shea saved it
But all I did was turn the system on so I could play it
You know the shit you wanna say iI'm a say it
Make a long
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