Lyrics:
still lives in me (Woo)
Lets party
(Let's Party)
Until the sun comes up
(Until the sun comes up)
Let's party (Let's party)
Hope we don't wake
Richard Fagan/Joe Collins, Of Music, Inc (ASCAP/Life's A Pitch/Joe Collins Music (ASCAP)/Foray Music administered by EMI Music (SESAC)
Hey hoe come
Jackson, Grants, Benjimens
I can't sleep at night
Cause
When I close my eyes
All I see is dead faces
I'm haunted
By the root the of evil
You expect me
and I often fall
One day I had enough and I called 911
I could have went from 9 to eleven by the time the police would come
They rang the bell of this
Yeah
The Fat Gangsta
Here comes the nigga from the East
Who just been crowned for most hated by police
The public enemy rapper at large
knives
Making spears
Out of lights
Out of fences
Choosing sides
cnd loosing lives
There no forgiveness
Henny 3 Times
Welcome to the death row
No
They making knives
Making spears
Out of lights
Out of fences
Choosing sides
cnd loosing lives
There no forgiveness
Henny 3 Times
Welcome
behind us
Cassius Clay welcome come here come here
I'm on top of the world
I'm the greatest fighter that ever live
I don't have a mark on my face and
I
I need everything I came for (Joe Joe got 'em again)
And some
Prosper
I'm tryna live prosper
Prosper
I'm tryna live
I'm just tryna live
I
to
Swallow when everything controlled
By that all mighty dollar
We don't fear God in America
Okay the sun rise from the east
The west marked by the beast
stacking, strict as Joe Jackson training
Five kids to blow
Fraction of my mind died years ago
Miserable drunk beers at most
Swung at by school principal then
1000 grams of that white shit
6, 000 pounds of that kush nigga
A thousand handguns extended clip
But if it come to it we at war nigga
And why you
it right
Don't make a ass outta yourself, by assumin' (yeah, not the mid is low now, turn the mics up some more)
Our music keeps you movin' what are
it right
Don't make a ass outta yourself, by assumin' (yeah, not the mid is low now, turn the mics up some more)
Our music keeps you movin' what are
thirty-five I thought man a live
What could be a-holding her up
Just then a man in a long black Cadillac
Came in and told little Joe filler up
While he was
that I'm soarin
Racing round the track 24 gordon
iPhone's almost dead time to put that cord in
Runnin down the field vince howard lamar jackson
I'm
Come on! Come on! Uh!
That's right, Nonpoint, Darwin's, Grimm in the house, lemme hear that shit
Na'mean? Uh! Bout to slay those fuckin tracks
Here
on
The homie Great John on the beat, by the way
Don't Come Outside, Volume 3 out now
(Great John on the beat, by the way)
I'ma fan Heavenly Father but
of Joe Jackson's kids
I ain't get this nice overnight, it just happens when you practicing
I got some accolades under my belt
Pussy like butter the ones
somethin' make sure you hear it right
Don't make a ass outta yourself, by assumin'
Our music keeps you movin' what are you provin'?
You know that I'm two
it right
Don't make a ass outta yourself, by assumin' (yeah, not the mid is low now, turn the mics up some more)
Our music keeps you movin' what are
the story that Michael
Jackson, in a effort to
Retain his youthful look and feminine vocal characteristics had his
Testicles surgically removed,
Thereby
don’t be having the same rinse as me
When i come around still bring good energy
Cause i rap now everybody a kin of me
But by myself i be
Focused
taste like some Sour Patch 'cuz pussy on some candy shit
She gone gimmie dome like she live there on some Sandy shit
And if two hoes come with me then we
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