Lyrics:
Mothafuckin' murderer [Repeat]
Murdered my sister
The only thing I'm tryin to tell is to take it to that nigga
Get that mutherfucker what I tell
From a mercury to a maybach
Skipped over the continental
Told the Bentley dealer
My wife’ll be back by November
GT
0 to 60 In 4.3
Not trying to flee
back again
Album is soundin on fire on Thursday I'm gon pack it in
What I'm gon call it I'll tell you just when I package it
Yeah
Sip it
Slow
Min-a
Ralz
Hundred lightbulbs in here it's lit
One two lyricist I spit
Hundred lightbulbs
Hundred
Hundred lightbulbs in here it's lit
One two lyricist I spit
know they bop it all over the city
Composure or control I do not lie on l's messi
Tell these niggas I'm Bruce they get it you got it I got jt I'm deadly
problems
Tell lil' bro to pass the blunt Choppers by the hundreds
Bet I get they asses touched Niggas know I keep it on me
Pussy ask for what
path homie
Told my bro's I got an album, I'll be right back homie
When your foot stay on the gas then you might crash homie
I just pray to God that I
had to flex, bitch
Now that I'm king, gotta tell me, what's next, lil bitch
Always taking fat blunts, none of them small blunts
Your girl be so
Yeah
Man, it's easy for these rappers
Who have it all
Talk about the days when they used to be sad
I guess I can't relate to
Bein' famous
and a dream
Get that money for the family, I go to the extreme
And I remember
Cold nights, past the winter
Life full of L's
I'm just trying to be a winner
shocked by the outcome
This one verse is harder than alotta y'all's albums
And there's some things I wish
I hate to admit I know
(Don't wanna be apart
my name on wax
Thirty two three albums bout one hundred tracks and counting
In Atlanta clowning on how these niggas sounding
Georgia raised Florida
low how much to the beach can you go I woke up in a swan song the only thing I know album no I may be wrong I wanna do sold out Sogno two one go no I’m
a ho she got baptized
Put a couple hundreds in her Trues, tell a ho to get her act right
Bands a make her dance, bands a make her dance
Red bottoms will
picks to choose it
We get cha if we gotta
Wig split cha if we gotta
I know you ain't got word that B.G.'s a rider
So keep it on the D.L
If you got keys
it sweet I might be in your house
L-O-X black mob Holiday and I'm out
What, bitch
[Chorus]
I'm a Ruff Ryder
Weed smokin, gun totin' heroin
school deal
Tied to the game by Steve Lobell
So we always win, don't receive no L's
New girls act like they know me so well
But I shows no love and be
hustling see
To be young black and rich
If that ain't the combination
Tell me when it switched
I need to know (listen)
Maybe the problem is your
especially
Whenever I be monumentally, grammatically, killing the mic
I tell my DJs, cranking that music, keeping 'em moving when the beat plays
Staying
could not yet be put into words
Skip forward a year, 1995
A new album by Green Day comes into my life
I'm told "this is punk" and I dye my hair green
Jah is watching you)
Man a wah some do a likkle bomboclaated
Weh feel like them because dem album charted
Well all bad card will be disregarded
No
Album : Ojaju
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Lyrics copyright : legal lyrics licensed by MusiXmatch.
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(featuring Busta Rhymes)
[Intro: sample from Scarface]
You got to be kiddin', five hundred?
Who you think we are, baggage handlers?
The goin' rate
never been or will ever be me
Just dropped bff ep bunch of friendly flakes
I can tell you fake just by lookin at your face
Bg behold grace
Gotta show yall
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