Lyrics:
a ready to go, he jumps in
his pirogue headed down the bayou
He's got fishin' line strung across the 'Lousiana River
Got to catch a big fish for us
and Brent Spiner, and LeVar Burton.
Rest in peace, Notorious B.I.G. and O.D.B. and SuperNova.
And rest in peace SEGA, Kevin Mitnick.
Rest in peace Dave
Now they lookin' for sponsors, so I'm tellin' chicks, "I'm broke"
That was prop money on the 'Gram, Kodak Black joke (I ain't got it)
I'm not a big
vibe‚ I don't get no rest
You come for the tribe‚ we come for your head
No revive, it'll be no test been underrated
Underpaid and I still do tours
I still
blunted in a 600 Benz
Ask your friends who's the illest
Licking shots niggas screaming Biggie Smalls
Tried to kill us
I get ill
It's time for a funk refill
rob ya
Niggas come tatted up head in a body slang
Well it's your nigga Big Bonna niggaz be creepin up on ya
Goin for the jugular, niggaz trying
Wouldn't be where I'm standing if they hadn't have fought for me,
From a nothing rep, now we live busting sets,
So if you own a Hoods album you get nuff
stream feels got us bringing highlights of greater bout with the Ed Sheeran till we black him out with a cross of greater clout,
We never did it for
Brr, Lord let me catch my drift, ah
Roll a big chopper
While the ride getting wiped down
The white I got right now
Will turn your wife light-brown
something made me stay
Enjoy the sun still preparing for a rainy day
I know 100 shooters not that many real men
They try to bait the big fish don't let em
backwards for, "Fuck them damn niggas"
Buck them damn triggers
You charge us, bodies fill up them damn rivers
'Cause everybody wanna be the best rapper
the past couple months were an intense test
But I'm ready to put family court to rest, and get these albums pressed
So if your tired of screwing your own
might just stop by your daddy's
Roll around in Pikachu, throw that window down
Pack a big ol' fatty bowl, shit me smokin' now
Throw it into drive and hit
sexually
Knew a bunch of Radio Raheems, rest in peace
Four finger rings, big as brass knuckles
Haters walk by, try to stab you if they hug you
Lady
ready to go
He jumps in his pirogue headed down the bayou
He's got fishing lines strung across the Louisiana Rivers
Gotta catch a big fish for us
again like Groot
No-one really knows how to make it, I do
I'll have an album done by like noon
And ride the Milano with my Raccoon
I'ma keep makin' songs
jewels to stunt no more, call me mineral investor
I buy shit I can pass down like all of my ancestors
Big diamonds, big gold for the whole world to see
shit, we made us
The Rap Pack, I'm Sinatra, Dame's Sam Davis
Big's the smart one on the low like Dean Martin
We came in this game, not begging niggas
ain't an album cut I'm still getting my demo reel off
Ma I promise our break through on the horizon
Know your son has got a lot more left inside em
fine
If I could be wed with a wife.
And indeed, Miss Pipperidge, if you'll be mine,
I'll be yours for the rest of my life."
Next moment we were
old back room
He'd bob his head and say, "Damn, oh, that's you?"
But by The Black Album, I was blackin' out
Party at S.O.B.'s and we had packed
old back room
He'd bob his head and say, "Damn, oh, that's you?"
But by The Black Album, I was blackin' out
Party at S.O.B.'s and we had packed
remember on the coming album
You know when there was only five years left
It was once said that there was no time
To take time for granted
Well we are
no sci-fi horror
Walk by today, drive-by tomorrow
Talk hype, get blazed, why do you bother?
You've been wally since Tim Tam Tommy
Go raves
Get paid but
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