Lyrics:
of the Prince, the boss
This is real hardcore, Kid Rock and Limp Bizkit's soft
Sip Cris', get chips, wrist gliss, I floss
Stick shift, look sick up in that Boxter
Once upon a time not long ago
When Gonzo was a kid
with no money to show
Before Supreme Team had the corporate beef
When Sean2slow's album was
of Jesus, then i Bible whip em
so if you wicked make sure you still steppin
and my Bible might remain a concealed weapon
see, prayer is how my text spit,
and traffic's
At a standstill
Slay know I'm mad I missed his album (Facts)
But I don't play, like math
The kid's a problem (Uh, huh)
Different kind of caliber
flip flops on my feet
Coolin, catching vibes
Posted next to the tree
With the crucifix on it the one right next to sea
You kno by the rocks
I guess
[Puff Daddy]
Oh shit (what's that man)
I don't know kid, I think it's a party going on
Oh it's the remix
Check it, yeah muthafuckas
What we about
boy
On the outskirts, of what works
Live those who go for broke, and merk to get merked
Live by the sword and die by the semi
Not part of my ways, but
to saddle up the Tontos cause I'm the Lone Ranger
I eat dinner with Jews but don't talk to strangers
I'm just a few albums from filling your disc changer
If
Across the street from the
Kensington Market in London
"Peaches En Regalia" That's one of six
Rock 'n roll concertos from an
Album called Hot Rats hot
They
'boutta hit this muhfuckin' album
(Oh oh-Oh, yeah yeah yeah yeah, whoa)
Yeah-Yeah-Yeah-Yeah
I done seen a lot of things, yeah yeah
Nowadays, sit
Quick to strap up, you'd think my name was "kid, back up"
Big niggas, pick that up or lift that up
Raised by gangstas and gamblers, hustlers, con
on the line
A big shot to claim some rocks and shine
Signs of a soul gone solo
Robbed blind
A very small part of half the worlds crime
Runaway child blown by
the club
We throwed them hunnids not no ones
Throwing them hunnids we fuck them
Whole by the firm
Step in the club
Pocket full of hundred, no ones
Choppa
saved
By placing my faith in Jesus Christ
The one who arose from the grave
The first concert that I been to
Was the Storytellers
Brothers Incorporated
took place 8 months
After I got saved
By placing my faith in Jesus Christ
The one who arose from the grave
The first concert that I been to
Was
We about our Daddy Business
We will never mind our own
By His Grace we'll overcome
And sit with Jesus on the throne
One One One One
Eleven Eleven
to get Yeezy
He working on the album so it ain't gon' be easy
Damn, and my girl just caught a nigga
Rolled up unannounced she ain't even call a nigga
maybe black, maybe Spanish
Had a little vocal, only in the choir
Says she loves Jesus, and she has good credit
Few months in said, "I'm makin' you my
King Jesus, every word that you say
I’ll tell em bout my pain, but also that I’m healed by your grace
Ima bring it gritty, but keep it real clean
Ima
the boss
This is real hardcore, Kid Rock and Limp Bizkit's soft
Sip Cris', get chips, wrist gliss, I floss
Stick shift, look sick up in that Boxter Porsche
of the Prince, the boss
This is real hardcore, Kid Rock and Limp Bizkit's soft
Sip Cris', get chips, wrist gliss, I floss
Stick shift, look sick up in that Boxter
This is real hardcore
Kid Rock and Limp Bizkit soft
Sip Cris', get chips, wrist glist', I floss
Stick shift look sick up
In that Boxster Porsche
With
no no don't address them
Can't you see how they dress them
They probably surrounded by models and a
Bunch of them yes men
I'm surrounded by no-men oh
the cool in you
Or it'll be a sad love song being sung by Toni Braxton
And I'll dissect you like a fraction
All you wannabe top cat MCs, I'll pop you like
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