Lyrics:
wada we iere doen
Want binnenkort ezze een album van e rapper in pensioen
Oh nee, men ego lopt los
Oh nee, men ego lopt los
Woar is je lisse, woar is je
You can cut me five stacks, I might make you a album
That's if you don't suck, you do, I'm chargin' 15 thousand
The game don't stop, I got laced by Mic
M-O-E, bitch
E-Z
On the grind, straight gettin' it
Bout my cheese like Junior Kid
That money talk, I speak fluently
The dime size keep evokin' me
care 'bout nothing 'cept to get this album out dog
Fuck e'ry body in the world of this outlaw
Coming to you live from my home studio
In south side
I do keep it blood like a Piru
I'm in album mode
I'll try'n get every album sold
I'll compose hits like Al Capone
Down the road, no telling how it
my first album to be a little bit of everything
Tempo's created and in rhythm alone
A vibrational
"Temple" pull that attaches your soul "Our
Cause love don't love me no mo'e yeah
Traumatized by yo meaning
Of what loyalty is
You turned yo back on me
So I went and did what I did
Aye Aye
It is
So out of the mercy of Allah
And the LAW, written in our nature
We call an individual, into existence
And when that individual, I make, NO
up I was on my grind, that's right
So pay attention, yea you on my time
In that case time waits for no man
Do it again I done that before man
M.O.E
up I was on my grind, that's right
So pay attention, yea you on my time
In that case time waits for no man
Do it again I done that before man
M.O.E
Ho fatto un cerchio intorno a me, ho evocato il flow
Mi sento giusto un poco brillo e ho fumato un po'
Quale rapper mi mangerò? Eeny, meeny, moe
even if I gotta
Fuck, suck and swallow in the parking lot
Gonzales Park, I'm followed by a married man, a father of three
My titties bounce
M-O-E, Murder Of Everything in front of us
And can't nobody stop it, because the reaper's coming to cancel every one of us
And it's all gravy, all of my
shall prolong his days; and the good pleasure of the Lord shall prosper in his hand.
He will see the fruit of his soul's work, and be satisfied; By his
Like That...
I be damned If I die by a Nigga
I Keep the iron In my fist like I'm RZA
Kill your ass like this beat instrumental
To survive in my genes
at
Downtown, some pussies in the Prada, that
I'm M.O.E., can't fuck with me, bitches like that
PTG, bitches, KOD, you can't fuck with me
Creepin' on your block,
taking his life's not a problem
I've been robbin' niggas and pullin' triggas way before my album
Drowning my sorrows with bottles of Moe
Anybody can go,
get high
Tryna serve in my lane, lil' nigga, I won't let 'em get by (I won't let 'em get by)
Say you runnin' the game, lil' nigga, you don't tote
M-E-L-O-D-I-E and Manager Moe
We'll wrap up any MC in a ribbon or a bow
People takin pictures of me everywhere I go
Take out three MC's and call it Tic-Tac-Toe
Productions make the lyrics just flow
With M-E-L-O-D-I-E and Manager Moe
We'll wrap up any MC in a ribbon or a bow
People takin pictures of me everywhere I
Today I went to Major Matt's
To remaster my old album
And on the L train in the morning
I was pretty sure I saw Will Oldham
He was wearin' the same
recognizable names in the genre
Dr. J, Eazy-E, Ice Cube, MC Ren, DJ Yella, and the D.O.C
When Straight Outta Compton was released in 1988, the album spoke about
I get my pocket tapped Goodz
Ya Grape is in the street 'cause
Like Suge my pockets fat Goodz
Ya squad not strapped Goodz
Them guys by ya side will
motherfuck Snoop, motherfuck Death Row
Yo, and here comes my left blow
Cause I'm the E-A-Z-Y-E and this is the season
To let the real motherfuckin' G's in
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