Lyrics:
That I was not up to par, when I followed my heart
Granted, my heart was tainted by my mind, I kept on sayin'
Where's the hits? You ain't got none
You
{Aight, what's goin on, what's goin on
What's the deal pa, where you headed son?}
(Yo I'm bout to go to the studio and lay smash hit
Wit my Uncle Run,
an album can change a nigga's life around
I got friends and bitches on my dick
But when they look at Richard all they see is Bushwick
Sometimes I don't know
that you do
Because stupid is how everybody sounded
Nigga you think you know me, but only if you knew me
Homie, you would leave me by my lonely
I'm
God given
This is hard livin', mixed with Cristal sippin'
It's the most consistent, Hov
Give you the most hits you can fit inside a whole disc
(yes)
It's like that man, it's like that (yes)
Check it
I'm not your average MC with the Joe Schmoe flow
If you don't know me by now, you'll never
a headache, like yankin domes with a straightening comb
When our bread brake, articles of artists who aren't as hard yo'
Partners by fathers, regardless they
feelin like the best, nobody fuckin with us
We done turned to a bygone don crew
We got the semi Kimora like Djimon Hounsou
A lifetime criminal, live by
soldier shit
Keep on servin' 'em, 'cause you know we do work
Mashin'' in my Chevy down the streets of New York, they feel me
I smooth grip, and hit up
putting my ex in a song even though the last one went triple platinum
I'd rather put that energy into what's worth having
Like how I got a platinum album
from my sig
Leave a hole in you bigger than BIG
Nigga you dead, I know where Nori live
You live by Nori crib
You talkin' all that shit
Nigga you
and four chords repeated
Completed by a relatable lyrical concept about an ex or something
This isn't for the masses
It's for the
musically analytical
So
Death row, that's for these niggas, I'ma hit 'em up
Makaveli, it's All Eyez on Me
Pinkie rings, it's still M-O-B (M-M-M-Maybach Music)
I been tryin',
the pool with ya mama
Attack her by the legs then I pull her to the bottom
Twist nothin' up like a condom
Slap it if you fuckers got a problem
When I see
in the pool with ya mama
Attack her by the legs then I pull her to the bottom (yeah)
Twist nothin' up like a condom
Slap it if you fuckers got
eyes
Said whoever hit him for the average poor asshole
'Bout to be hit for they biggest surprise
Now meanwhile, still short on pot to piss in
Not
to get popped by a cop?
Who the next n**** in the hood to get shot?
I hope it ain't me, so I'm strapped up in bulletproof
N**** on my stomach see -
to get by the dope dealing, fatal killings
In fair times so writing rhymes
It ain't just the police
We kill each other just lost another brother
Fast
The Wang Dang Taffy-Apple Tango (Mambo Cha Cha Cha)
-Artist: Pat Boone from "Pat Boone's Greatest Hits"-Dot DLP 25455
-peak Billboard position #
Non-stoppin', I'ma hit 'em till the block explode
Hip hop, R&B, Pop-tart, what you want?
I even got a little rock 'n' roll
The most creative, original, got 'em
you 5 seconds
[Roscoe]
The wait is finally done with, the time is now
YA, like who want it, we in it to run it
The album's done nigga, Volume 1 nigga
sometimes
And then I realize
That You're by my side
When I started the last album I just wanted to rap
But it became daunting in fact when I got lost in track
production's tight
Sometimes I might catch a severe case of writer's block
But by the end of the day you'll be on my jock
My name's Malik my hobby's putting
albums?
Naw dog, I started off on the block
I just did shit to get shit
Niggas always knew I was down to hit shit
That's why I stay wit shit
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