Lyrics:
at the back for drinks at the bar
You know you ghetto when think your number one with the flow
And you shoutin out yourself on the radio
You know you ghetto
(Is that the Grim Reaper?!)[00:10.94]I'm a skull splitter[00:11.97]Leave you in a casket like a grave digger[00:14.09]Put the pedal down in the 9/11,
your postcode to W10
Grow apart, fall out of love with your friends
They'll say fame made you change but it's just all them
Some of them get cat, some
and MC's roll
But the albums they make never go gold
When I was young, I knew I'd be one of the best
Every time I made a song it came out so fresh
I was
Man listen, being humble ain't gon' get you out your grave
You should treat your life the same way you
Thinking like and go and whip it like a slave
don't know my name
Unless you're a celebrity it's okay
But it's vital you learn how to treat your boy right
Or guess what? My bitch ass will show up
back when I used to smoke, I would steal the shit out of your cigarettes
I love you, I'm sorry about that
But, you remember, always you would let me
threat so I approached him,
With due care..
"Ah Mr Pip" he said out loud,
"We've been awaiting you, my name is Elwood P. Dowd",
Now just what he meant by
gonna cause flames
Can't take the heat? Get out my lane
(Verse 1)
All your boy wanna do is make some fire songs
Honestly, I don't see nothing wrong
It
Bible right up on my night stand
Angels right by my side that's my right hand
I told God I'm ready when the flight lands
Let it be your will your flight
Look, I'm going to ask you
This one more time
Please step out of the vehicle with
Both hands above your head
You are being charged with stealing
This
I lost motivation the album delayed
They say fell off and decided
To speak on my name
Put this in your brain nova cane
I been maturing
boys
Keep your identity crisis under the table
I always knew who I was and I'll always be more famous
Check it
For the best in the vendor biz
everything you own on your boy
I got us
This gotta be the last song on the album
'Cause once nigga hear this, nigga don't wanna hear no fuckin' more
everything you own on your boy
I got us
This gotta be the last song on the album
'Cause once nigga hear this, nigga don't wanna hear no fuckin' more
really turns me on
And to yo silly hoes out here still tryna link up
You can't find him 'cause I got him wrapped 'round my finger, bling
Ooh, boy, who
know you know who your are
Just play it fucking smart
Logically, i'll be the one rich soon
Lambo as my car
Black boy wannabe with so much
Blessings like
a king that ain't never fall
Falling me chasing waterfalls
Adlibs
That's right
You're the reason that
Yeah you got me
You got me
My Bible was written by
Who's at the center? My God is
While you're half stepping, man, We're all in
Boy I'm past caring for your jargon
Keep checking if I charted
Numbers gon'
I close my eyes spin
Take a breath and I picture us in a place
I can't recognize, cmon!
In the fire I call your name out dances
Up all night tryin'
steppin' out
Fuck what y'all talkin' about
Quarter-mill for the car, quarter-mill on the arm
Black Double-R, back the fuck off
Drophead, cut your head
profession.
Can't be effected by the Great Depression.
So if you want to be giant sized,
Come to my school. Get pimp-matized.
In your school, what do they
your face.
I rap so hard, you can't stop me.
My last album sold a million copies.
Me and the maestro, laying the beat.
DJ scratches from my homeboy
From yo' car to a crap game, no one rolls wit' you
One of Mini-Me's shoes got more sole than you
So by the time you figure out why your record ain't
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