Lyrics:
the Old Polina
You need not try my sons
We challenged all both great and small
From Dundee to St John's
Art Jackman set his canvas
Fair Weather
shit
Nigga back up
Yo lil ass a chump
They
Gone have to come
Deep for me
Discreet
Cus I'm the one
Nigga
Ima come
John Wick 3
Take 'em out
One by one
East on five-eight, the sun was shinin
Top down, I guess you could say we was excited
Cause John had the hook up
in Haywood, and I was ready to cook, but
and plus, they hoop it up
Got more hits in his zip, who want enough
I can go back in time, you be Judge Eato
With my men and ?? I know you thinkin' Neato
you with it, you done
I'm a keep it a 100, you better get you a gun
Word bond real talk, do my dirt all by my lonely
'Cause them suckas will talk
I'm
cars by the three's, Bitches call me papa Johns 'cause I keep that extra cheese
Overseas in the sun, livin' for the fun in Milan with some bad bitches
on my palm screamin', "Fight"
Change the policy, before I buy back our property
You love Black Panther but not Fred Hampton
Word to the Howards
in half
And then had shit hangin' by a flap of skin
After he tried to plant the shit back on the mat again
Pad to pen I'm batty like eyelids when
this beat mine and yall cant have it back
I heard a couple of niggas made songs to this beat (hehe)
Ahem, I go by Cola fuckin D flip it around you know
like use the same lyrics I did, or the same, you know, the same vocal performance)
Uh, uh
Better get the hell back, better get the hell back
You would
confusing, boy be shooting jus to say they it
If you pull that tooly, better use it, your ahh gone get hit
Used to post up by the sto, was broke an I ain't
've ever opened was Quavers
Ever had the police called on you by your neighbours?
It's on sight and I ain't wearing a hard hat
Need mine Cuban, Ana de Armas
the Rift Valley
In places untraceable by Rand McNally
Took a cobblestone trolley through a Mercer Street alley
The more championship rings than John
Gilla, Gilla, Gilla, Gilla
Yo, uh, oh, Redman back in your town
You'll get drug n*** like wedding gowns
After 12, whattup to Dogg Pound
I roll out, like
a favor, won't you call John the Baptist
Tell him I'll be there soon if I make it back to town
My upbringing
Was full of things
"Just keep us safe and happy
on the phone
Back Wit John now
An you said you cut em off
O you lien now
O you trien to play a playa let me find Out
But you still the same girl
Spitting rhymes
It's a mack attack, coming from way back
My name is Too $hort baby, I don't play that jack
I'm from the Dangerous Crew, and I tell you it's true
bah)
Because of the law, I had to conceal it (I go by Weezy Baby)
And if you mess around, you gon' make me reveal it, ay (tell you somethin' 'bout me
Ayo check this out son
This is my man Nas Escobar
And I go by the name of Cormega you know
(you gonna get your self murdered)
Yo check this out
! I will shit on you
I remain fatter than gluttony
Tapin' bombs on the back of record companies
Blow 'em up if they ain't want me
The national
on you (I will shit on you)
I remain fatter than gluttony
Tapin' bombs on the back of record companies (uh-huh)
Blow 'em up if they ain't want me
one and the same
Had to pick one it was part of the game
Is it John or Kunta what is your name
Wanna play the name game, you can call me gods name
Like
my bitch just might kill again
Pray to God by the night sin again, (yea)
I’m giving you life anything
Off the wall like Mike do ya dance
I’m paying
to survive
Back when i had no money and no ride
Back when i had to slide through to get by
Tears in my eyes yo the anger makes me cry
Uchiha burning rage take
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