Lyrics:
If you a downer stay the fuck outside the club, ho
If you tired, wake the fuck up for the town, ho
If you brown nosed, keep your mouth closed
By any
Smoking blunts, getting geeked, blazing in my city streets
Hit Atlantis grab freak, smoke a zip and bout a week
Stomach talking, time to eat, Wings
Rebel, renegade, must stay paid
Not by financial aid, but a raid of hits
Causing me to take long trips
I'm the original teacher of this type of style
track of the album “Cantigas de Maio” (May Songs), that debuted in Santiago de Compostela (capital of Galiza) in May 10th, 1972.
Outlawed by the Fascist
Cuz she rolling up papers and fronto
Let me hit one time and you know I want more
And she said that she's coming thru
Let me dive up in your pussy
Even if I made an album
With a Punjabi hit-squad
Clash me, I'll make you jump like Kris Kross
Make a man know, that I'm not a nimrod
And if you still
wrist
Diamond crop my neckle' (s)
Rockin' Mark an' Jacob
Haters wanna' taste it
Hit em with some flavor
Hit em with some caramel
Hit em with some CARL'S
know, running in the Slick Rick
Bro, getting hit up by Big Daddy Kane. What the fuck, bro
Sorry I put it out like that, but it's facts, you know what I'm
down boy, hit this BM, Bob Marley
A tribute
'Cause it's probably as fat as it was he rolled
When he strolled
Down the same cobble stone streets
across the nation
Funk Nation that is
That supported the album
My man Busta Rhymes
My man Grand Puba, check it
Ugh, yeah, Hit Dre in the house
My man
on hard
I be rippin them tracks
And by the time it hit the shelves
I'll be gettin' it back!
So many niggaz playa hatin'
So I'm totin a gat
Pistol grippin',
shit hits the fan, I Ron Artest niggas
This how I'm living getting tatted in some house slippers
I like my bitches simple laid back relax, it's mental
_____________________________________________________________________
*taken from the album entitled "The Vegetarians of Love"
Written by Bob Geldof
Ain't no funk as funky as Doggystyle (ain't it funky, though?)
(Death Row, Death Row)
Everybody know I got more bounce than an ounce (Death Row,
Ain't no funk as funky as Doggystyle (ain't it funky, though?)
(Death Row, Death Row)
Everybody know I got more bounce than an ounce (Death Row,
You said you're gonna get up off the couch
(you won't)
You said you're gonna put an album out
(you won't)
You said you're gonna go out on a limb
(you
around the beat I make 200 pounds look real nimble
The passion overflowing it don't ever dwindle
That's why I write albums without a hesitation
Need more
shot him quick in the neck and he hit the floor
Before I untied her I shot him four more times
Put a bullet in his spine
Was he dead? let's see
across the nation
Funk Nation that is
That supported the album
My man Busta Rhymes
My man Grand Puba, check it
Ugh, yeah, Hit Dre in the house
My man
shittin
Bitches hit me off more than New Edition
(Tweet-tweet-tweet-tweet, tweet-tweet-tweet-tweet)
I make them pigs heart skip a beat from the steel
two to the jugular, blood be spreadin
All on my shirt, the king of the flirt shittin
Bitches hit me off more than New Edition
(Tweet-tweet-tweet-tweet,
Ayy
Whose fault? Uh
(Whose fault?)
Let's play the blame game, I love you more
Let's play the blame game for sure
Let's call out names, names,
a little more on the pop side than I do
I'm only a plug
Females hit my line
But we not finna talk about that today
So JJ
Tell me about some of the youngins
There's something so enticing about striving for more than we are
One is never satisfied with themselves
Someone else is always who you want to be
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