Lyrics:
shout out to Will Smith
Cause who didn't wanna be the Fresh Prince
Flat top, gold chain and some fresh kicks?
My nigga Nas told me money make the world
my sleeve
Immenslope got tricks up my sleeve
Yo D-R-K got tricks up my sleeve
De La Soul got tricks up my sleeve
JuJu got tricks up my sleeve
swear to God, it feel like every day is my birthday
Let the top down, California's my birthplace
So I'ma take you there like B.I.G. took niggaz to New
Grandson bout be on top
These hotdogs betta ketchup, Jay Bailey brother will never stop
Ridin thru my city, looking somethin' like a legend
Mix this Texas
Please take my letter to my beloved.
9-And tell her I am still waiting for her.
10. Her beloved house Which I miss is really too far .
11- Have you
(You've been on my mind)
36 hours and I'm back where I started
La in the rear view
My heart is barely what it used to be
Barely what it used
responding
By purchasing them
And bring them to my house
Of other plants
Yeah, that's all I have to say
I guess
I list every sin
And call you by my father's secret name
Swig and swish, the bottle doesn't understand
And the rest of the world
Well they can judge
be fucked in this game, I'ma psychopath
My AK, told me to shove him up some niggaz ass
I'm havin' long conversations with Mr. Millimeter
He's one
tell everytime I see
L.A. Compton to Long Beach gangs talk
I wish when my pops got the erection
he woulda used protection
And I wouldn't be a squirrel
like that?
Cause it must be
My Essence is Rare
My BACKYARD funky
We got a JUNKYARD band
We GO GO like dat
You can't mute DC!
We don't Mumble ( mumbo )
on the
Barbwire
Why I write it like that?
Cause it must be
My Essence is Rare
My BACKYARD funky
We got a JUNKYARD band
We GO GO like dat
You can't mute DC!
We don't
my bitch
You and I
We was suppose to get rich
You and I
We was suppose to be the fit
Now I'm by myself
I don't wanna be nobody else
I want you
I don't
a bitch on a stroll
When niggas try to get me I haul her off let her ho, KILL EM ALL!
I can't be fucked in this game, I'm a psychopath
My AK, told me
story. Now that I cant do
Cover girl
No seh that a
Mi fi be yuh
One and only
Lover girl
Them stingy tho
The little that the righteous
Have
Surely better
Kids lookin for Saint Nick
Just leave me some cookies and get off my damn dick
You want a present? Nigga, please
Your house is a wreck, and you're
quiet, and than black infiltrates the mix. It was really foggy today, typical for La Selva, and I just think how blessed I am to be living in such
she said (stop lying)
I said, "I am, go ask my mother
And with that wrinkled pussy, I can't be your lover"
To the tick, tock and you don't stop
used a judge a MC
On what?
By how amped and loud the whole crowd would be
I go eh
They go eh
If I go yeah
They go yeah
Yeah yeah yeah yeah
venture
No you're not dreaming i'll be the Pincher
The millimeter by millimeter Doberman Bull Mastiff mix
Where Rottweiler while a rhyme of
Graffiti
He'll be short, shorter than short
With my hands around his troat
Fool, come off the chain and bracelet
I know it's wrong but face it
A brother
the blind no wonder why they can't see my vision (No wonder)
Heatin' up the house like I left the oven open in the kitchen
That's by any means necessary,
to be broke and then I looked to god and prayed (straight facts)
Gave me a sign now I move a different way (left and right)
Flew to LA, got 3 houses by
Spyder, two cars
One for the weekend, one for the Bae
House in the City, House by the bay
Drive in the Rolls Royce on the weekday
Salute the Chauffeur, have
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