Lyrics:
Cocoa
This lyric I'm makin is dope, don't call it so-so
Don't dis the Tung Twista
Leavin the suckers soft as a whisper, Tung kiss ya like a sister
Then
Felon, fights behind me on the intersection
Sex and drugs my anthology on perfection
Dress superb admired by conspirists
Who wanna try me but ain't high
ones
By the time I was 19, 20
Had a few albums
And I was producing more
Even hooked up with a band
After we jammed
On a music course
Ironi, the name fit
I'm happily married with a house and three mistresses
Even with the beard I'm not as hairy as my sister is
Got a new Hummer, two Ferraris, and some
Before i go id like to say a few things. this album was completed on january 15th 1991. By now the war has probably started and a whole bunch
and my man Rick got millions of gold albums
(That's a lie) I'm gettin' cold money every day
(You're a liar)
You'll need a wheel barrow for all that shit in
get me wrong, got four albums, stay consistent
You got a bodyguard, I let my nigga tote the biscuit
Twist ya cap back, you got blood off on ya fur hat
I think you need help
How many time on one album can you say you're def?
"I'm bad." Yo punk, save your breath
That's weak shit from a weak mind
drive em
Home theaters, can't Best Buy 'em
These niggas that I roll with
Don't let a single thing get by 'em
King pins and them drug lords
Chi-town,
of Dolly
Dolly and Charlie got a son named Wally
And Wally got a girl by the name of Polly
Polly got a sister by the name of Molly
Molly and Polly got
by a Mack truck
And don't come around forty and front and get tapped up
Cracked up, can't wait 'till this album is wrapped up
I'mma take you
many pictures of us two
Flashing and dancing now this voodoo
Just brought my sister's ghost to my room
Days go by now the toys here too
Telling me wicked
signs
Still I climb, rockstar, Third Eye Blind (I began to lose control)
I was bored by these albums, so it gotta be time
No reward for the latter, so
DJ Khaled
DJ Terror Squad
And he goes by the name of
You got the right one, it's Weezy fuckin' baby
And if your woman lookin', I'll let
rapper about to blow
But his album came, and it was not good
I think it went lead or double copper-wood
So the silly little fans, they were misled
By
These children are living in
A world where their
Friends, their brothers, their
Sisters, their cousins
Their classmates are dying violently
They are
decline
I'll swing while my sisters sing for the brother
who's conducting thangs
[Chorus]
conducting thangs
oh eh ahh
I wrote a jam called Private
This album is dedicated
To all the people who are with me through the thick and thin
And will always be with me when I have nobody else
Contraception- Fuck it if I get screwed
By myself wit no aids I'll infect'em
Aye
Waving a weapon, I was raised by a parent
Who was Raised by a reverend straight
On the real I keep it real under the moon and the sun
It's in my DNA and blood live by the money and gun
Study Art Of War so every single battle is
Family matters, It's in the last name
Saturday mornings feel like a half day
Time flies by until you've had enough
Summer grilling and juice inside
on your fucking wall, necklace-wearing bitch
You don't want this money till it's rich
Buy my album, coded by Dirty, set you free
Go against the grain, I
The whole world love Keisha Plum
My sister iller and doper than yours could imagine
If a person was Illmatic
Beef and broccoli rocking habits
Army
Aye Rod, do or die, you revolutionized all styles of super fly
Suit & ties to every single Jordan, yeah, you knew the vibe
By the way, I still ain't
.jpg/300px-Sister_Hazel_(2174716298).jpg "Sister Hazel")
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