Lyrics:
mehr C.R.e.a.m. Machen als Ben & Jerry's
Life is sweet, Peanutbutter Jelly Sandwich
Dresscode Para, mehr Nettozaster als Death-Row-Youngster
Back from
y'all niggas, then we showed y'all niggas, huh?
We gon' take it back with this
By the time you get a show, we've been all around the globe, huh?
We
to sell crack to put clothes your back
Look don't stereo type me because I'm from the ghetto
I ain't buss no guns or drive by's so just settle
Shit what
and who really got your back
So I made my first album within a year without that slack
I got a song with X-Raided Goretex and thirteen thirty-three
Dr Dizzy
Droppin' bombs, combinin' the club attracts
like the Ol' Sugarhill Gang, King Tim and Fatback
There's no question the suggestion was made
The foundation
nuts, then I (yeah)
Check my ball hair (what?), make sure it's all there (yeah)
Then call the pallbearer (yeah)
It's Music to Be Murdered By again, why
bet this album fresh"
Premier was dressed like King, Guru was Malcolm X
In the video for "Who's Gonna Take The Weight?"
I came from the same place, I
bet this album fresh"
Premier was dressed like King, Guru was Malcolm X
In the video for "Who's Gonna Take The Weight?"
I came from the same place, I
like welcoming Ma$e back
Welcome back, welcome back, welcome back
Pastor Faggot
And now hes back and he's gat holdin'
What a bad omen
He got locked up
Happy holidays
Let me come here and talk to you
I gotta stop sayin' I'm not doin' this shit no more knowin' I'm cappin'
(Great John on the beat by
more unless it's profits
Lord, why you keep boxing me in, 'cause I'm God's gift?
I might set my mic back up in the closet, though
Just to give myself
And don't try to whine to the Grapes
You not the Rams, don't come back to L.A
I fuck around and catch an Uber to Slay
I'm a drama king, and a street
microphones that I can clutch
Droppin' bombs, combinin' the club attracts
like the Ol' Sugarhill Gang, King Tim and Fatback
There's no question
y'all niggas, then we showed y'all niggas, huh?
We gon' take it back with this
By the time you get a show, we've been all around the globe, huh?
We
indie records show up in a W-E-A box?
By saying your independent, you belittle the whole movement
Real emcee's work hard, ain't got investors to put out
carton
You could still feel chills from the team
On 118, my nigga Ben fly by like it's a dream
His face on his Shirt Kings
Laced in a pinky ring, in
(Cold)
Cause I'm clean (Yup)
Bless you no sneeze (yup)
Curse you for free (Yup)
But no lee-way between (Yeah)
Imma break it down
Imma take ya crown (King
yeah, I'm back, it's Tejbz
Fortnite is my jam, play with Ninja
Chat spam
My fort's a ferrari, built by a genius
I'm not retarded, just a little bit
position so get back to where you came here from
I'm serious, my flow is sure to leave you in delirium
Delirious, delicious rhymes, so thank me if you're
Chauffeured by the latest and greatest strand or brand of pessimism
This album’s dedicated to a basement fulla addicts
It’s too hot up in the kitchen
Had
the booth every time I'm recording
Doing back to back shows
I feel like I'm touring
Can't listen to these rappers
Cause these rappers too boring.
My boy 10
tweed or no yak
more like 25 pounds of get back & I can tell by ya
walk it's talk back but if that ain't yo case let me take a ride
on yo' love
I'm Crack biatch
The same dude that made you "Lean Back"
And had that nigga Ma$e spittin' that gangsta shit
Can't wait 'til my nigga Shyne come home
Brightness flames
Lights up the plain
The King of this rap game
First album white hot flames
This could be a right old shame
Flop of the century
And I
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