Lyrics:
of automatic fire
From brixton to Belfast riots rage and fires burn.
The royal wedding of Pronce Charles is celebrated.
In America the skies roar as Columbia
I know I shouldn't have did that
I know it's come right back
I know it's' going to
Destroy everything I made
It's probably gon' get your boy sent
Master P
Golds in They Mouth Lyrics
[Chorus 2X: Master P]
Them boys from the south.. got golds in they mouth..
Don't trust them when this sun
the holy spirit how I'm feelin' blessed
Ain't no contest to all this wack shit, it just ain't no test
Step and get laid to rest, boy, step and get laid
LBC D-E-F-G
I'm H-I off J's bellin in a T-shirt and blue jeans
well few dreams ever come true
well some do, so nigga say (I'm from the beach too)
beats, I run up in yo home
See me... I'm the type to catch her by her toe n*gga, ho n*gga
Check my background, f*cked ya ho n*gga
How I do it, ion even
Oh yea
This is for my real fans let me talk about them
Right around with my first album
Remember that shit talk about it
You put me here
M.I 2
I'm a n**** with a 'S' on his chest
So get the Kryptonite 'cause I'm a rip tonight
'Cause I'm scarin ya, wanted by America
(Ah-yo Cube man, they
now 118, call us now
Boy Better Know, that's the label now
Left dem yutes in a cradle now
Left dem with no milk in a bottle
Man wanna F with the team
who's playin'
This new album produced by Swizz Beats, Pharrell, and Timbaland
Correction again, this album is executive produced by the Dragon, Pharrell
I got a lot I wanna get off of my chest so
We gon’ get right into it
Yeah, yeah
God bless America, it’s the land of the free
The home of the brave
the greatness of success
I've been depressed
I live with it
Comin' back and I feel with it
What's an album? I'm done with it
Just afraid to see it fly by
Think
Ayo, shout out Jay David for all the love
That's my boy, swag
Ay it's your boy, J-Money
AKA, Morgan Freeman's daughter
The color white here
Drop some
I'm gon' keep provin' (let's go)
It's Weezy F, I got your mama groovin'
Out of all the Hot Boys, she say I'm the coolest
I bought my bag of oranges,
I'm gon' keep provin' (let's go)
It's Weezy F, I got your mama groovin'
Out of all the Hot Boys, she say I'm the coolest
I bought my bag of oranges,
(rap boy No.1)
(Yeah yeah)When I put out a new song, someone start to sit still again
But none actually listens to my new songs
My situation is so
(Uh-huh, YEAH!)
N*gga keep talking we take off his head
Don't want to talk unless about bread
I don't f*ck with cops, I don't f*ck with feds
Just
use it wise when I'm about to take a step
Imma always keep it pushing, I don't need a f**king cushion, Imma try to make a right and not a left
I can't
I'm a n**** with a 'S' on his chest
So get the Kryptonite 'cause I'm a rip tonight
'Cause I'm scarin ya, wanted by America
(Ah-yo Cube man, they
something and I got it covered
Somehow always rise above it
Why you think I got my head in the clouds on my last album cover?
The game is all mine and I'm
Kells make it hurt at the same time feel good!
Label me a bad boy, true but I; m damn good
I'm rich as hell but I'm straight up out the damn hood
F
Biggie, but I'm just as Bad, Boy
[Chorus]
[Outro: Method Man]
Yeah, Big M-E-F, Staten Island Advance, motherfuckers
Word up, don't ever count me out, just
inside the Bank of America rich and left richer
The poster boy for late stage capitalism
I get the bag, no cap, and the safe too (Hmh)
The illest villain
your ass just lost All y'all must pay Every dog has his day that's the reason they made the AK Who just made the 10 o clock news? Blew that boy up out
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