Lyrics:
That she won tickets to see
The Chili Peppers play
On Ellis Island
And it was for the release
Of their new album
By the Way
And she won the tickets
By
take a freeze
And got enough gold to rock ice in all hype
Used to be a general but just lost his stripe
Pipe dreams and white
Feinds and all-nighters
4. Lion King morning time score, bird song, dog barking, snoring,
5. Sound professor from Cornell struggling with recording, bird song recorded by
Goodwill loves me Macklemore than you
I've got flat screen TVs, with skate videos on repeat
All the latest CDs, mp3s, and Beats by Dre
Thank you very
album had no famous guest appearances
The outcome: I'm crowned the best lyricist
Many years on this professional level
Why would you question who's
take what I want
So, you tried to front, hope ya (got yo'self a gun)
You ain't real, hope ya (got yo'self a gun)
My, first album had no famous guest
take what I want, so
You tried to front
Hope you got yourself a gun
You ain't real, hope you got yourself a gun
My first album had no
Famous guest
or
Un-corrupt police at least "Come on Will
You gotta tell me!" I grabbed and
Shook him by the arm
The L train was leaving Bedford with 10
000 white
skills in the place
I waste megahertz of bass bottom, chill
As I rock 'em and get ill, I build the perfect spot to kill
Verbal excitement will lead
lucky)
Funny watchin' two niggas beef that could hardly fight
Like Soulja Boy gettin' pepper sprayed by Charleston White
Can't forget about the Super
a middle finger
Hip hop is sweeping the nation
But the contents seem so degrading
Most rappers got new albums
That white kids are anticipating
If you don't
seem so degrading,
Most rappers got new albums that white kids are anticipating,
If you don't like it on the radio
or the television then switch
in cycles, maybe you'll date a nigga just like me
I hope not, I'm tired of dope spots
And fiends that smoke rocks
I've seen far too many niggas'
laughing
On 83, by 82, would've been 81
In the 80's they made money by hustling anyone
79 flows, got 78 more
I think I got around 77 songs that I wrote
It's
By Nirvana
Memory-y-uh
The first CD I ever stole
From my dad's CD collection
Was an album titled Nevermind
It blew my mind to pieces
Both of us came
Yo, wanna know something about my right arm?
I done flex so hard, I set off fire alarms
The fireplace's outta space with a lion's belt
Big jewels
You understand?
"When I get to heaven, I'll see my grandmother there
She'll say 'Great God almighty, here come my child! He must've got here by
through the game, then rep for the borough
And there ain't no name that can make me shudder
Woke by a clock, and I wouldn't be alarmed
Nah
Sheero, how
Bongo By The Way
I wake up every morning on the same shit
I smoke my 'Wood to the roach like I ain't rich
Niggas I used to hang with, is still
shoulder... ? Aw, you're fulla shit, man... ah, listen, by the way, before I go on; did you get those white albums I sent ya with the pencil on the front... ?
the banister
Shoot him on camera then kill his manager
Then hang a banner up
That reads you can't proceed
Without bein' conceived
By one album of the 90's
coulda beat the whole Dipset by his self (he could've)
They wasn't ready they was more focused on drippin'
He called them out for not knowin' they words
of a lion
Solid as a rock
Put that on my pride
Palm trees are my view
Backed by family
You can hold you crew
Entered the game late
Let my shit stew
Product
an instrumental album of sitars, pots and pans
You've done enough talking, so I know you ain't fading Sole
Have your boy Rupert Murdock fly you out,
I'll serve you
.jpg/300px-Wallace_Collection_(1969).jpg "Wallace Collection")
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