Lyrics:
bet you I beat you
The fans love my voice see I'm a blessing to the speakers
Y'all know me, I'm OG I'm low key
I'm too hot y'all can't hold me
All I
move by the inch, teachin only some of it, believe us
Hustlas and players and hos will never leave us
They been around since Mary Magdalene and Jesus
Run
daughter
Starin her down like she's a tramp
At the same time explainin why you cut off her food stamps
A black race that needs therapy
Cause the workplace is
And that's my recommendation, I'm saving ya' from deterioration
By making replacements for inferior baseman
Players that never could play at the game they
first album
I know I'm tired
Of these flies flyin'
Time flies when your time is spent fuckin' fries fryin'
Weekends off why these guys lyin'
Wife callin'
to the people
The peepholes on the wall when I got stab in the back
In the street them people be smoking cracks to bury them burden
Them Christmas spirit
through working on this album, I believe my brother Saeed, is still with me too.
So this one for both of y'all,
It's only right that I go out the same way
why when I pray all the gods pray back
I'm surrounded by these demons all about attack
Lightnin bolt comes down Zeus sent me a strap
God amongst men
'Round the way work, jewels in the ground, hit the pay dirt
Love is love, you in good hands, Dennis Haysbert
Openly protected by who you be neck and neck
four
Street soldiers y’all know we shine yo
Streets is the jungle
Got to survive yo
Shit is live yo
The vibe from five o
They don’t drive by
And niggas
So put on your dress, darling now
They think I'm covered in diamonds, covered in jewels
Didn't have to pay for my Mary Jane shoes
That I didn't get
Why una won de foul me
On my way to lay up
Gotta make the basket
Ma dunk ma de tun gbe ball
Can't wait for no turn by turn
Esau si Jacob
Wondering why
just wonder why
If it's me, I just wonder why
I believe this shit is destined for me
I repeat this shit is legendary
Winning winning now we all win
alright
Bobby Sherman, Christmas album, that's where I got my style from, quite frankly
And I had this Panamanian tailor, this guy name Mr. Holt
I mean
and sausa
Commanded by the colonel p, don't like it we lost ya
[big ed]
Chorus
Nigga I say shit like dips quick to empty out clips
Big ed and steady mobbin
thought it was Game
Drove up the wrong street, looking for Mary Jane
Got popped close range, I guess he thought it was a
Game
Most gangstas in the Pen,
My Life out like Mary
I'm oh-Blige-d to J. any ghetto queen that's sanitary
Don't play me too close, you'll get roasted by the human torch
from Newark,
It feels just like Christmas
Are we popping? I guess that we are
Hit 100 but that doesn't mean I'm a star
Keep 100 percent
I'm not g'on lie
Doing what
sharks you hear the sirens
You walkin' corpses, we was fine
But you had to change our mind
Now our numbers up up by 9
dial 1 1, hope you die
Call em
This the prelude to the album
This is everything
If you can actually pay attention
Imma tell you everything
What do you want to know
Fuck it this
the orchard
That had covered your soul
Their empire increasing
And your country
Deserted by yourself
The bells of St. Mary call us to remember
That life is
accurate, I'm a graduate gradually smacking y'all
I'm passion in my skill they ration, your whip I'm jacking it
With your wifey and bands of cash in it
I'm
Do you remember
Looking for bloody Mary in my mirror
That September?
We took turns going first
Took me by my collar, took me under
Because I
Do it like its last sunrise
Losing all my ways, feeling like I'm through decades
Illness going in those vains, everybody loosing gains
Why you run all
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