Lyrics:
for hip-hop (yeah, second renaissance type shit, check it)
Yeah
Who would have thought that paintin' pictures 'bout bein' broke
Would get me riches
Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo
Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, yo, check it out
Introducin' the international
Worldwide, Brick City
To each his own, I'ma have
We gotta teach these kids to say no to beef to live
Not by words, but by actions we can repeat the shit
Our brothas killing brothas
Because it only
Came to the club in all black with the whole squad
got me lookin like batman
If she wanna throw it back I'mma tap that
Hold up pause I don't want no
(Killah BH)
Uh oh, It's that time again, It's been too long, It's family reunion
(Joe Budden)
Mic check, mic check
(Killah BH)
We
my check up
Big gas this some pressure
Down to slide like electric
Steppin
Steppin
Steppin
Steppin
Steppin
Steppin
Steppin
Steppin
Nah we can't mix
a show no need to check me I got my weapon tucked
They put me ona market, tried to blackball me it's forever up
Like walk it how you talk it don't forget
rhyme readily heavily influenced by all I've ever seen
It's my medicine remedy
And if you ever seen me live at a show
You will know I use pure energy
Sneak attack
Whole team getting racks
If I speak about money
Then it's all facts
Fall off in the club
Watch em all flock fast
Call this hoe a scene
and hypnotized by the piece swingin back and forth from Queens n****z
We thug ya party out lock down the bar section
We never check our coats, 'cause we got
I turn it out whenever I'm in the mix
I'm creeping with my secret and that's how I wanna keep it, peep this
If I hit this pussy you going tell
Jeff
So bust this beat
(Disc) (jock)
Yo Jazzy
[ VERSE 1: The Fresh Prince ]
Well, it's true that I'm the reigning king of the throne
But with all my
the bag and then I ran off got it mixed up
I just ate gelato in Italia with my pinks up
I flew out to Paris just for dinner on a mix up
I pulled up with
tsitsi wo
Sɛ nea me Kyiri Wia no RAMADAN
Me di wo bɛ breaki me fast sɛ Eid Fitr
Bring it down for me
Check your weight
Check your weight
Shake bum bum
a club or papers by the pile
just ask toy soldier, toy soldier could of told you
at the boomin funk hut it was the afro with the butt
so to the flam lovers
It cost to be alive
I won't say I'm king of the jungle, but I survived
Watch the cookies crumble in front of me, at least I tried
You know what
DJ Khaled
DJ Terror Squad
And he goes by the name of
You got the right one, it's Weezy fuckin' baby
And if your woman lookin', I'll let
Lil nigga gone better get that check
Stunting in club when like to flex
Nigga come to the trap and they ass get finessed
Get hit by the feds and them
hop, I drip-drop
I flip-flop with them white tube socks
It go sherm sticks, watch me burn this
That’s what the chronic smell like
When them chemicals mix
check, check
check check
check one and a two (two.. two.. two..)
this is... this is.. this is..
youuuuuuuu
ya simply (gotta gotta gotta gotta..)
to have it your way
Get dough or die, floss at all costs
Cash out and mash out, brought to you by
Grand Hustle and Young Money
I hope you niggas brung money
and hypnotized by the piece swingin back and forth from Queens niggaz
We thug ya party out lock down the bar section
We never check our coats, cuz we got
check it out:
Tonight we're gonna flip and trip and let it all hang out tonight,
We're gonna say what we like.
'Cause, yo, yo, we want to know how many
Well, it's the underground,
You know that we're down with wutchyalike
Yeah, with wutchyalike, yeah
And though we're usually on the serious tip, check
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