Lyrics:
a suite at the SLS
I already know you got expensive taste
Take my hand, follow me to my room
Tell your little friends you gon' be alright
Girl I got
discretion advised, please cover your eyes
Little kids, get out of here, this shits is homicide
Drugs and money, this ain't no Bugs Bunny
Little girls too,
and Daddy standing by, yeah
Pretty little darlin', I said, a-right now
Don't let a tear, don't let a tear, don't let a tear
And-a take to the ska-da-da-da-dy
Brr, until-a that mornin'
There's nothin' gonna harm you, girl
With Mommy and Daddy standing by, yeah
Pretty
When I burn out on the bike
Holla at the young thugs
What we doing tonight
I'm in the O.J. throwback jersey
Dressed to kill,Bridget won't get it
Networking, meanwhile my stomach turning
Wanted to be a part of it
Cater it to my audience j cole runnin' late
If he don't show up
Think I can take his place
Don't you fiddle it son, make it feel good, yeah
Play T.J. - from Chicago
Well, just treat your man right, woman
Day by day-ay
And get out your
to the nearest J
You need me I'm one call away
But I'm cautious of that interstate so back roads be my safest way
It take a little longer but it make it there by
born into this world
Ran by a little rectangular papers
You're so mean until you see all the green
Daddy's little girl until he
Takes away your money
here bears don't cry
I'll sing you a lullaby
Shut your little tender eye
As we let life pass us by
I will be your guiding light
Teach you all your wrong
to put my hand on
Grin on, bad bitches to bend on, depend on
If I don't catch the paper chase syndrome
Sittin' my girl on, to kick a little somethin' bout
trip (J Cole)
Walking with a crooked smile it's a cole skip
I'm driving ice with the black rims gotta cool whip (Skrt Skrt)
I guard my boys backs like
the way to self care
I can't even lie I know
Do this for the kids
For every little Black boy
Wondering just who he is
For every little black girl
Burned by
Little girl, little girl what have I done
To make you treat me so
You have caused me to weep
You have caused me to moan
You have caused me to leave
Yeah
You know
My niggas told me I was gonna be the next J Cole
So I guess imma be the next J Cole
But you know me
I gotta be better than that
I work c Lot,
Like J Cole sir savage
DJ mixalot
This shit don't stop
Laxin' all these rappers
If i steal yo spot -
THE FUCK WOULD YOU WcNNc DO THcT
There's two things I know for sure
She was sent here from heaven
And she's daddy's little girl
As I drop to my knees by her bed at night
She talks
(Didn't your Mama tell you how to behave,girl?
Didn't your Daddy tell you not to wear that little thing?)
Been told you never get something for
daddy girl
It's time for lunch, got a hunch
By the way you lookin'
You want to make it with me
So grab a plate, it's a date
We can get to cookin'
Clap your hands everybody
And everybody just clap your hands
Fly girls, clap your hands
Fly guys, clap your hands
Well, if you're feeling
Clap your hands everybody
And everybody just clap your hands
Fly girls, clap your hands
Fly guys, clap your hands
Well, if you're feeling
wish the time away
Oh my Milly my little girl you’ll stay
You can close your eyes to your daddy's humming
As he pulls you in close for a kiss goodnight
claimin you with your girls
But with me you be sleepin
Verse 2: [MACK DADDY: Chris Kelly]
Now dividends and millions, is what i stressed on the last jam
girl?)
Love (I love this shit)
Love this (Be-atch!!)
[Daz Dillinger]
She was a betty I done knew back in the day
Little scary lil' bitch from around
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