Lyrics:
the raw meat
Yeah it's in me and it's on me Always see me by myself
I told you I'm a one man army I got one casket
Three seconds left on the clock You got
a name
Bitch, you get it in a month, you see I get it in a day
I just get this money and don't care 'bout what these niggas say
Three hour conference calls
know I'm federal property now
And this that "Federal Contraband" music, man, part three on the way ASAP
Free the whole Choppa Gang, free CMO
Certified
I can fuck your bitch if i feel like
And i can move 100 if it feel right
I can go and spend it all in one day
And i can get make it back in the same
it ain't got a heart
Only three more hours, until this day is thru
Three more boring hours, might as well be twenty-two
I'm working in a factory, 10
niggas is on the same level I'm on
You ask me why I'm Melvin Flynt I'm doing a porn
Ah yo y'all niggas is faker then a three dollar bill
And I don't
It was the third of September
That day I'll always remember, yes I will
Cause that was the day that my daddy died
I never had a chance to see him
walk
And then she hit that hair flip
I mesmerize by them thighs
And them lips i could kiss
We can dip or take a trip and have her flossin in the dip
Type
I woke up feeling blessed, I plan to celebrate
Paid my bills and my rent, I plan to celebrate
Got my check in the mail, I plan to celebrate
I'm
got shot
Oh Lord it's emergency
3 6 digits numbers
I turned them upside down
Better call emergency
I tell everybody that I wanna be free
I wanna be
getter doner
Shoutout all my boys at MC
This for y’all
TDW..!
THE DOERS WAY!
We good
WRITTEN BY: Rodney Murray III
it up lil bitch, pick my calls up
Started out the first days down in the undertaking shit
Niggas hating on us cuz they really wanna be us in this bitch
blessed with life
So I breathe deep and give praise to the most high
Then I, get fresh for a new day
I eat broccoli for breakfast and smoke my trees
to all the losers, mad buddha abuser
But they don't know about your stress-filled day
Baby on the way mad bills to pay
That's why you drink Tanqueray; so
usually find a little 'ol piece of dog-eared poetry. I was cleaning out my wallet the other day and ran across a whole bunch of I.O.U's, some of 'em
(Baby, you know, you know, you know I need your love)
You cannot find no one better than this
Try to do right by you, but we can't mix, I tried
my wilder friends
Looking for some other way to fly
And three days straight was no big feat
Could get by with no food or sleep
And crazy was
line, its like 2 or 3
Hoping she can get through to me
And this shit was all a dream
But naw I ain't get no sleep (nahh)
I hussle seven days
Have you ever been awaken by the crowing of a rooster
While the night is still heavy on the ground
And the voice of Uncle Ben seems to break
you kiss me, I'm like a kid of three
But my baby days are through
I'll build a bungalow that'll go to show
I wanna play house with you
The other
today.
You know I don`t give a fuck what you think or say,
Cuz we gonna rock this whole place anyway
[Johnny 3 Tears]
Look up and see that motherfuckin`
Sassoon, chrome tones hear the moans of Al Capone
Gun POW to the dome
And split the bone, wig blown off the ledge
By the alleged, full-fledged, sledge RZA
Oh, what a dawn of day!
How the March sun feels like May!
All is blue again
After last night's rain,
And the South dries the hawthorn-spray.
Only, my
, better days
Somehow, some way
We gone make it to better days, better days
Ramon noodles, chicken flavor
Red Kool-Aid and a tator
Stack of bills, 380
.jpg "Bill Gaither")
.jpg "Bill & Gloria Gaither")
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