Lyrics:
Last time I checked my
"black" don't come off
Homie, everything I say and do
Is black by default
And this might be confusing, a change-up
Just don't let
like a dead body coming for its murderer
Shit, you seen Chino lately? You gotta see him
What you get to make an album, I get in one day's per diem
Go
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
Warning, prepare yourselves
Store your food, stamp your paper
Because when this motherfucker gets here
It's about to get real fucked up for
Everyone
Stamp your paper
Because when this motherfucker gets here
It's about to get real fucked up
For everyone and everything, everywhere!
Well, Busta Rhymes,
album
Puff Daddy, enough already
Now its P. Diddy still sound shitty
How can your group be called Da Band
No body plays an insterment man
I dont
Hey 'Pac, it's yo' boy
Hey man so far I've been listenin' to your album
And I ain't heard nothin' you could kick back and smoke a beadie to
You
wrote an album
By the time high school over look at the outcome
Got a lot of people didn't used to be all around me
Yeah I didn't sleep 3 days feel like
cleaning up shop
But I ain't quitting till I'm either dead or standing on top, I won't surrender
Tryna make an album of the year contender
If I offend ya,
Said these, night go slower when you ain't by me
Lost in the chaos and you know how to find piece
It's tough. There's a lotta ones like me
All I ever
My life has always been a mystery
Surrounded by darkness and shrouded by misery
Thoughts attacking viciously
Ripping me apart from the inside, I
with a ball of chain
A barbarian on paper
Every bars tailored for your Paul Bearer
Allahu Akbar
A battling rap god slash bar maker
Bar Mitzvah glass jaw
look good
Those a hundred proof nigga tell you different, he a liar
Drop 1 album, set the world on fire
I will not stop and I wont retire
You niggas
Robin and Crystal do
But Crystal's single, Bonnie's broke, and her niggas too (ha)
I can do bad by myself, went from rags to wealth
From Jags
the heat from your breath,
Rap niggas beef in they album probably needed the press
And as a man I never found the slightest need to impress
Another man
joint right here?
How many people recognize this song?
This shit right here is called "You Got Me", ya nawmean?
It's on our album which is called
try to call me over the hill
It's probably cause you saw me chillin' beside a pile of paper
Life's a Picasso painting, psyche, my life's more like
Proof's in da pudding and dat bakin soda taken,
Paper dat I'm makin, gotta take dem photos naked.
Listenin to niggas like whistlin dat Wendy Williams,
I
With these fingers I'm lead singer
I ain't even serving fiends but supply demand
I'm making statements Austin's paper can't
I pay no mind I just payed
float, let it float, let it float
Let it float
Let it float, let it float by me
Inside this paper plane
Note my words are Navy sealed
So here and I quote
dropped a album in two years and I'm still on tv
I gotta swag so retarded like hoa
The girls like boosie fuck me harder,
Bitch! hoa
Nigga say they
got your own whip and your earning paper
Then you have the right to be a heart breaker know me
Man up, producer, artist, MC
Killer everytime I go
yourselves, store your food, stamp your paper
Because when this motherfucker gets here
It's about to get real fucked up for everyone and everything
Everywhere!
I do this shit cause I love it
I wrote the verse and I kill it
Produce the beat and I nailed it
My album's done, freak is ont it
Bring me down
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