Lyrics:
couldn't afford a TV Dinner
But now I roll around in a DB-7
Throwin' up the two, to the hoes and pimps
It's all about the money, you know what I'm gettin'
listeners relate
Let's put the beat back in, 6, 7, 8
This is the end of Opportunities
1 album, 2 album, is there a 3rd please
This bitch is going off again
the poor
And after all you can say you saw
Cypress Hill, stompin once more
I play it by ear, I love to steer
The fifty-seven Bel Air from here to there
and the beer that makes Luda keep rappin'
But no pork on my fork, I don't even speak pig Latin
I go fishin' on my lake, with yo' bitch as the bait
Plus I eat
ranger
And if I don't got it with me on DECK
Your gettin CUT like a
Las Vegas' card player
And I ain't playing with you at all bitch
I ain't a dog trainer
the payment
All these little rapper come and go, I wonder where they went
Ten years and runnin', we came up from the basement
(You are watching a master–)
even up my sleeve
A million albums sold and it's hard to believe
Well it's true homeboy, it's not a lie
I used to sell tapes on Sunnyside
I used
See if we can kill your amnesia by the time I leave
All mommies I harbor for vouch for me
Tell 'em bout the time all your mommas couch mommy
All
than a bachelor pad
We’re here to take our city back - capture the flag
Setting next year’s fads, y’all still rappin’ ‘bout swag
Get your album shrink
Yeah play times over mutha phuckaz
Spice 1's defiantly in muthafuckin' effect.
You know what I'm saying?
Bringing it to all you bitch ass
3omrak da tarkeeb 3l bta2a deek
Ba7dr tb2a sees
Fnan say3 3la l beat
Bitch I got that real real
If they pull up on a nigga we gon kill kill
Conversations
I don't bother nobody I pop my shit
Early morning I'm smoking cause bitch I'm Brick
Nineteen years old but I'm ten years down for this shit
Vegas Strip
Judged by twelve, but oh well
If controversy sells
I'm about to clock a grip (whoo)
Do the math and count the
Months in a year nigga
Gave your
Don't fuck with that boy, don't play with that boy, he's out of his mind
24 hours 7 days of the week been out of my grind (PUT ME ON!)
So high in
Well, that was the album
I hope it wasn't too disappointing
Mm, Before I go
I got one more thing
God rays in my whip look real good on yo' bitch
God
the recession, then we formed the fuckin' team
F-U-N-K-V-O-L-U-M-E, nigga
Seven years into this shit, somehow we're only gettin' bigger
And we're just now gonna
Fourteen years after
And I still feel ten
But fourteen years later
The albums a ten
I'm doing my best
Cyclical
Cyclical
Cyclical
Cyclical
Fourteen years
rappin' on the mic talkin' shit about a bitch
I'll retire 10 times and I'll still be here
My old records sell about a half a mil' a year
I say "bitch get
No singles
All albums
And I don't give a fuck who found em
If you hate that bitch then pound em
If you have six bottles then down em
If your pussy
me think it would be my time
Seven years now not seeing this big boy of mine
With these twins wanted to change my life
But before they was born I got
felt that free for so long
That bitch put me through hell
Respectfully, but I'm still
Salty 'bout those two years
Rather went through that by myself
yeah yeah (yeah, yeah)
Grabbing a couple wins, world record career
Bitch I'm only just starting, shooting for stardom
By the end of the year
Soon you
Smoker session live resin 24/7
Ya, 27 tryna reach an empty heaven
Tired every fucking second
Puff's
Got three brothers that'll kill over her
And she will kill a bitch over us
I call her when I need advice she call me when she wanna fuss
I
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