Lyrics:
a pocket fulla stones was no future in ur frontin
Influenced by that Rick Ross everyday I'm hustling
You can hear it in my stomach its soul food that goodie
the forest its obscene but its war
The city is choked by the smoke that just bellows
Out of every gun the allies will amass
Everything turning into ruins
way out"
From the pages of the Cress Theory
I know you hear me
If you out there, listen up, yeah
I know you feel me
Do I look suspicious on this track
yes I know you feel it
You look like one of those dancers from the Hanson video (say what, say what?)
You little faggot ho', please give me some shit
yes I know you feel it
You look like one of those dancers from the Hanson video (say what, say what?)
You little faggot ho', please give me some shit
Got you counting from on to ten
And by the time you get up to nine, your ass is left behind
Cause you can't mess with the lyrical master rhymes
Send
could be our little secret I don't want no drama in my life, you can keep it
Yeah, you can miss me with the Mrs.,
Only diamond that I'm thinking
a god, let me be strong
I'ma vote for you
Oh, I'ma vote for you
I came from the sticks, we called it the crick
Surrounded by rednecks, I still wanted
I can see heads turning
I hear voices saying "That's Erick Sermon"
Not only from the women, but from the men
You know what? It feels good, my
the glamour and the glitter so them think a bed of rose, mi say
Who feels it knows, ooh
Lord help me sustain these blows
From the minute of birth, you
you
But I can't seem to get it
Can't seem to get it right
Oh, it's killing me
I realize that it cuts me deep inside
When I can feel in my soul
Man, I've been down so much, bro
Y'all wouldn't even understand the
Half of it, you feel me?
Y'all don't know about being on section
8 and shit bout
I'm a boss
I did this shit by myself
Bitch I said
Fuck the cost
I been got rid
Of some pounds
Got me feelin
Like Ross
I can't stop
Gettin it now
you can taste the win,
Do it again and again 'till you say my name.
...and by the way, I'm so glad you came.....
Tell me baby are you Wet?
Chorus:
Wet,
and grits
They got another boy who can rhyme and do the fly flips
And that's I high I better get by because my ally
About to flip that crazy shit while I go
coatin' on it though
'Cause sometimes you can feel like your energy's expired
Rap's got you drained, dead tired, zapped
You feel like a wet pile of crap
Shaw and Samantha
Nelson record their part for Find Your Wings
I feel like rap has a timestamp
On it you could listen
To My Cheri Amor by Stevie
Wonder
Before I take it from your kind!
Let the bodies drop let the bodies drop
Death walks among you!
DIE DIE DIE can you feel the edge?
DIE DIE DIE can you
And then it's on, I'm digging in the dead bitch
She can't feel it but I gives a fuck I like the shit
I hear sirens, that's all I need to know
The cops is
ankles
And if that ain't enough, I call Henchman's to lynch you
Now, at the funeral, I can see the Priest bless you
But in the after life, I'ma still touch
Every second, every minute
Man, I swear that she can get it
Say if you a bad bitch
Put your hands up high
Hands up high, hands up high
Tell 'em dim
Don't make me show these niggas
Pray for these niggas
Keep me away from these niggas, and I
And God know, I know
I feel like can't nobody fuck with
Don't make me show these niggas
Pray for these niggas
Keep me away from these niggas, and I
And God know, I know
I feel like can't nobody fuck with
getting drunk, you smoke that weed until it turns you red and blue
But I'm just out here having fun, leave me alone and let me show what I can do
I'll call
.png/203px-Ross_Lynch_2_(cropped).png "Ross Lynch")
_1895-6.jpg/300px-Lautrec_la_troupe_de_mlle_eglantine_(poster)_1895-6.jpg "Can Can")
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