Lyrics:
a Backwood, Swisher sweet blunt, orange lace dope (let's go)
It's just some shit I wrote
My city couldn't be saved by John the Pope (John the Pope)
I slid
daughter on the John Deer with pride
Conservative blue bloods, intelligent minds
With them girls next door, they put me under a spell
I'm on top
back in the day
My rhyming's iron height, defiant flight
Try and bite, like a razor in a candy apple
A taser and a jammy tackle
By a neighbor with
wheel up
Bounce to the beat, don't seize up
Hands in the air with your keys up
Can't see me, John Cena
Realer, realer
Ain't got to be a big drug
velvet jacket, Willy Wonka
Boy he hot
But I haven't sweat in centuries
D'usse shots, blood pumping' John Kennedy
Boy he hot
Big bag don't be mad at me
Kid
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
Through The Country', let's go John
Down the road where the black top ends
You can find Colt Ford with all his friends
We're used to gravel roads,
is gone
And the fox is on the town o
Then John he went to the top of the hill
Blew his horn both loud and shrill
The fox, he said, I better flee
For that white powder
A deuce deuce will leave little holes
In your top like salt shaker
Then I'll finish it off with a big cap
On your head like a park
One, two, one, two, three, quattro
John was living in Ocean Beach,
California with his girlfriend, Julie, when he decided one day,
"Hey, Jule,
See that's a little Don Juan game
All across your chest like Sean John's name
Niggas tryna figure out since Kan' came
Who the rookie of the year:
Me
Everybody got it figured out
While I'm high in my car, yeah
Top of the parking lot of a shopping mall
In my car, yeah.
Surrounded by cameras but
Not feeling
Niggas thought I got evicted how my
Shit up in the streets
BIG but ain't nothing obese but the feast
I'm skinny cause I'm always on my feet
Gotta hustle
the world fuckin' with big John
I'll knock his brains out if he got it on his mind
Lonely, lonely baby
Lonely, lonely baby
A lonely, lonely baby
Yeah
and I go by the name
This some TMFA initiative Ladies and Gentlemen
introducing
I'm something like
John the baptist to these rap saviours
with 36
That 4 by 4 got lots of traction I won't swerve for shit
Nigga I'm superb with this
I need to get me a big bag
I need to get me another one
I
Sippin' on the mud, no money And I can do this by myself
Smokin' on the bud, no buddy I smoke from the top of the shelf
Showin' fake love, they don't
the heat up by the big dog (but I don't wanna hold you back)
Nigga gotta get this dough (I just wanna live my life)
Nigga gotta get this dough (Live your
St. John's
I wish my nigga was home the black Fonz
Yo we rock charms as big as Vegas
Different crews of different size try to player hate us
Top
donuts in my neighborhood, it made me feel good
I swore I would never do that shit again, but still do it
I feel better with no IG but I'm too big
better than great, heh heh
Uh in fact, I might just be top five
All-time, or at least top ten, well
Maybe nine minus five, divided by two
Minus the amount
(Great John on the beat by the way)
Look
Boy, we jackin' war, we ain't jackin' beef
Niggas wanna fight, put him in the sheets
.30 got the ray,
Sometimes I feel like John in patmos when he saw you
Cuz I see the end so clearly and it's all you
If my repentance needs a witness then I got a few
Alright everybody calp their hands like this, come on
Keep it up all the way to the top
I'm hot, you're cold
You go around like you know
Who I
-8643.jpg/225px-John_Scofield_(cropped)-8643.jpg "John Scofield")
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