Lyrics:
lookin' over at me
Wind in my hair, I was there
I remember it all too well
Photo album on the counter, your cheeks were turnin' red
You used to be
(What?)
No Why can't I just play pretend?
I don't care about your plans
(Like I don't really care about your plans right)
(Like I don't really care about
that they can only survive through your genocide
Strike 1
Strike 2
Strike 3
Strike 1, the color of your skin is too dark
Strike 2, your hair is too
worth
Y'all niggas eat pussy and burp
The other half of y'all suck dick till your jaws and ya neck hurt
When you address me nigga end your sentence with
shit
Another classic CD for y'all to vibe with
Whether you're coolin' on a corner with your fly bitch (biatch)
Laid back in the shack, play this track
procrastinate it's not your problem not your fate
Exactly where you're put by the collective consciousness
Now this third one it pains my goodness don't equate
Similar to me familiar
County hound comin' to burn your whole city up
I catch ya up in the club
Empty the fifth on ya
You all know it's pussy
By Vivica
to decimate the dark, nuclear rain to set us aflame
Obscured by a curtain of venom from space in the name of science
Fall to your knees, pray to a last
try to get it right
Dre promised me records, I never got 'em
That's why I had nightmares that a nigga shot him
For all my albums missed records
Felt he
a mil before my album hit the shelves
And I ain't talkin' bout no signin' bonus (uh-uh)
'Tics went platinum to remind ya homey
I'm not a restroom so
and I promise You wont make it through
Ah
Last album took me a while
Too bad it's not your style
Too bad I looked at your file
Getting me angry I've gone
Bronx to get your furious five
40 ounce of malt liquor, joint stuffed with the pie
Boss nigga, best nigga, let y'all do deciding
Hot spitter, dead
after
Why are you mad at me like it's my fault that yo life has always been an disaster
You post everything online that you don't own including your
'all who's listening and didn't go cop your own copy
I suggest you go handle your BI
Now I'm about to take this time out to plug the next
Flipmode Squad album
don't have to call me darlin', darlin'
You never even called me by my name
Well, I've heard my name
A few times in your phone book (hello, hello)
bite his lead, or we can fight instead
And fuck a can, we open whoop ass by the keg
Tell your boys to get your lame crest on
Want to rip together?
singing
All is merry and bright
So hang your stockings and say your prayers
Cause Santa Claus comes tonight
Thank y'all for listening
New album's coming out
on your side
Not with duality but by seeing morality
You'll learn to forgive and overcome
Learning the truth
Talking no concern this time
Cause we got Cern
an album can change a nigga's life around
I got friends and bitches on my dick
But when they look at Richard all they see is Bushwick
Sometimes I don't know
me explain your worth
You look like him but sound like her
You want an Eminem flow with a 5'9" voice
Weird signs, y'all niggas is hoes - oh!
You
flaw
Your album sales proves you’re not that hard
You getting crucified on these damn blogs
Cause you don’t got bars
And you don’t got heart and you got
with lyrics
Mother-F statistics they rap with metaphysics
And they yeah simplistic
They stay out as repetition
Show some recognition
Heard your album my
No, my brother, you've got to buy your own
Yeah
Yeah, woo
Yo, it's like the box sets
Star Wars, Fast and Furious franchises
Six projects, six
drive em
Home theaters, can't Best Buy 'em
These niggas that I roll with
Don't let a single thing get by 'em
King pins and them drug lords
Chi-town,
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