Lyrics:
father
P. Diddy:
Father, help us, come on
Michael Stipe (of R.E.M.):
Everybody thinks we're wrong
Alicia Keys:
Oh, but who are they to judge us?
the ball polish
My shoots then cross over
Hit the sham god in the morning
And when night time comes turn trap jehovah
Is you sleeping on me
Basket made it
in the chair
Doin' pumps like it's all good and dandy
Still gettin' gobbled up by Candy in the Banshee
'Member when Ricky sent his mans to come
in the chair
Doin' pumps like it's all good and dandy
Still gettin' gobbled up by Candy in the Banshee
'Member when Ricky sent his mans to come
'bout status?
We 'bout that magic
The lyrical pattern is acrobatic
Cross me once and I'll probably write your name on the blacklist
Outside in the cold
Stay humble stay focused
Watch the blessings come to you
Had to take a couple Ls before I took a W
Now I put the pain in these verses
I run up on you
You
(Come on)
Cross on my wall with a bunch of bad habit's
Ink on my skin, shows where I been
All the hell I raised and all the shit I'm in
(Let's go) mama
"Goodbye Dixe" by Corey Smith from the CD "Hard-Headed Fool"
(Whistling Dixie)
Passed an old plantation home off Hwy. 41
Been around since 1850,
good opponent
Yo I'm sippin Henney while I'm in a Benzy
I'm hanging out till the clip is empty
Leave caution tape cross the intersection
I get a cheque
o'clock I'm ready to split
Ready to get in my Chevy to get home and start hittin it hard w/ Betty
Smith or Johnson, fuck it it don't matter
Just want
Constricting his cells
We summon by candle by book and by bell
Glossolalia coats my skin
Glycerin and turbulence
Stuffed the voice inside of God
Mirrors
on niggas
Swooping up bitches
Chemist in kitchens
Nigga say he active
Put him on Ridellan
It's a whole lot of people that depend on me
I keep the peace by my
miss harriat Tubman what you got for me today tryed to escape from the kkk sign miss Jackson I had to bring the ak Michael Jackson moon walk right off
you ain't by yourself dawg, we all been lost
Stay on your course, carry your cross
Ain't no stoppin, got to keep it poppin
You want it, you can get it,
of the life and success that's prepared for me, yeah
Good things will come in 3s
Michael Jeff, while rocking these 3s
Easy money, feeling like a breeze
Loud
I rob Van Damme
Vеngeance in a cape and a
Mask like I'm the Batman
Only off the roster if I
Cross the McMahon clan
Somebody tell them come with better
niggas dropping W
Its a cycle
I just know that these niggas wanna be known (Yeah-huh)
Just like Michael ima knife you make sure that I send you home
Yo, (ok) kids I was sittin on the block the other day man
Some fine ass girl walked by
And she was lookin, I'm lookin back
She said uh "JD I love
Jebie baką w salonie już od dawna, to norma
Zapytamy policjanta czy da ognia
Bo mam jointa komu, komu by powiedzieć
Że mam prawo czuć się wolno?
Nie
Records out the basement
Fuck you lil pussy bet you
Never gonna say shit (bet)
I ain't have to take an L yet (bet)
Getting jiggy with it, Will Smith (bet)
“Coast Trash” (2015)
Lyrics: Michael L. Rauch (Curtis K. Tomlinson)
Music: Michael L. Rauch and Paul W. Geary (Willie J. Robinson)
Take your jon
you cuz this here
I got'll dangle ya thighs
And have you wonderin why the fuck
You had to come outside
So back back homie before
Ya grill get cracked
By
pop it and drop it
We're gonna cat daddy, harlem shake, twerk and criss cross it
We're gonna move to the music
Yeah I know you can do it
Just follow me
But some do come, you want to scrap or what?
If not stay back, cause I'll Roll You Up
[Break - w/ variations]
(That's right Mix, roll that sucker)
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