Lyrics:
"monkeys on parole"
And how many copies did the first album
"mop: to the death" sold?
And if "how about some hardcore" went gold?
What up with these r
schizophrenic
Murderer, robber psychopathic, schizophrenic
Buck, buck, buckin' 'em down
Blow a niggas ass off murderer, robber
Psychopathic, schizophrenic
Buck
blasted off and busted out those songs by Buck and Merle
Porter, Jerry, Chet, and Dolly rode that rocket ship with Charlie
Folks from Bakersfield to Raleigh
a billion with a hundred bucks
I'm back in the building
I feel like a billion
Been repping my village, professionalism
I'm up on the ceiling, I had me some
of a master
You never thought you'd be bodied by a bastard
A bachelor who backspin on breakbeats
Break necks of broke souls who hate me
Hate he? you can't
beside Meek's personal stylist, Sade
Who tells me
That Meek rarely wears the same shoes twice
Anymore especially his Timberlands, she says
Which are "one
on a mother-flipping CD
Turn me off and put on a mother-flipping CD
We are those "Interdimensional Beings" you were speaking of
What albums would you take with you
If we
featuring Big Punisher KRS One
[KRS One] Ha ha. Never fear. KRS!
Verse one: KRS One
I'd rather have a hundred thousand true heads by me
Than
of a match pussy
I'm fire
This league needed a match so Smack booked me
But look, hold up
Did you ever hold up a gat pussy?
Real G's know how the AR feel
on the lawn
Dinosaur Victrola listenin' to Buck Owens
Doo, doo, doo, lookin' out my backdoor
Well, tambourines and elephants are playin' in the band
Won't
Watching that, watching this
Want me dead, Apocalypse
You Owen shit, I ain't talkin' Ricks
And I'm with my dogs like I'm Michael Vick
Watching that,
neighborhood
A buck 50 for a buck 50 any way we could
Nike Roshe'ing to the payment for a Meagan Goode
And pulling Mach 5's just the way we should
Way we
featuring Big Punisher KRS One
[KRS One] Ha ha. Never fear. KRS!
Verse one: KRS One
I'd rather have a hundred thousand true heads by me
Than
(Club)
Smelling like bud
I'm getting green, it's tall like a Milwaukee Buck (Buck)
She wanna cuff
But, she showing me and the gang way too much love (Too
at all the happy creatures dancing on the lawn.
A dinosaur Victrola list'ning to Buck Owens.
Do do do lookin out my back door
Tambourines and elephants
give a fuck motherfucker
Roll through, trust no chicken
Tigh kids are tellin' me what's ammunition
Buck, buck ammunition baby
You let me slow
album by Chrome, the new artist Chrome
C-H-R-O-M-E, go get it, it's jammin' like a fool (yeah, yeah)
"Straight To The Pros," Chrome, October, 2005 (new
the choppers
Probably die as a young nigga
Codeine all up in the pineapple Fanta
Probably die as a young nigga
Keep your eyes on me baby (buck, buck, buck
proud of my roots|Red, white and blue are the colors I bleed|I'm a Johnny Cash junkie and a Buck Owens freak||We got redneck women driving ATV's|Wearing
are, we are, we are
Yeah
Everybody know the real me
Something in your mind to feel free
So hot they all wanna kill me
Been forever but I'm still
and four albums that went gold
I represent a Benz, BMW and a Cherokee
And still the industry won't respect me
Yeah, they give a lot of respect and props
on me
Baby girl, these is not McQueens
These Rick Owens
Wait 'til my bitch daddy go to sleep
Hit a lick on him he soft
Back in the day my daddy took
momma taught me that if I
Was in a grocery store
And I’m by myself and a
Stranger grabbed my hand
Scream at the top of your fucking
Lungs if I’m
you sound like D
And I bet, when I go plat, you'll sound like me
Shabaam Sahdeeq, injure your fleet into delete
Y'all crabs are weak, frail like
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