Lyrics:
rattle)
I like to stay covered like the bridge
Have you discovered this
You can find me by the creek with uncle Cheech
The waters deep got the hip
on the diznick, like a jim hat
Your shit ain't pumpin and your rhymes are wack
'Cause you're a nickel dime sucka, who hangs with Tommy Tucker
Like KRS-One says, you
my town, right now) right now!
You're listening to the beautiful
Sounds of Latoiya Williams, and my main
Man Murs, featuring Snoop D-O double
G, it's
Don't get too gay in Botany Bay
Or else you'll surely hang
Or else you'll surely hang," says he
"And after that, Jim Jones
It's high above
cause that ain't
Where you really at
Life is short do it asap
Light a j take a shot
You better face that
It's a test you better ace that
Going fast
How
feel alright
I keep drinkin' 'til I'm someone I don't recognize
I got wasted
I'm passed out and it's like I'm in a war
Life is passing while I'm wasted
He's alone and he's yelling and he thinks it's important
Then I see Ted Cruz come over and try to console him
and Jim's like fuck off Ted, nobody likes
Man 1: What?
Mandy: This praising.
Wise Man 1: No, no, no.
Mandy: Oh! Well, if you're dropping by again do pop in. (they
take
Ku-Ku clappers from a Soo Woo chapter
Too many hate it when I do it, should I nuke you bastards
Or, should I go and get a motor count, Dooku slasher
Do
Got out the airport the Mobb pick me up in the truck
Jury junkie like fuck I ain't scared to get stuck
So what's the deal poppy?
You heard
We'd like to do a poem for you called:
"The Revolution Will Not Be Televised"
Primarily because it won't be
You will not be able to stay home,
Let's start the year off right man
(That birthday s***)
Dip-set man Jim Jones, Santana, Freaky, Killa
Enough, let's do it Killa
Up and now
Manage myself like I came out of Yale
Shit that I do is exquisite give me a pack you know that I flip it
All 10 just like a pedi probably finesse yo ass
don't have to like it (don't have to like it)
I may have to do it, do it, do it, don't have to like it
Well the boss said son, you've got to punch in by
Passed down like 4x100m relay
It's a dash to the summit
And Hustlers can't stomach crabs in the bucket
That would cash in their mothers facts
You not
hear me clearly you better be careful for what you wish for
Or I'ma pull up on your Boulevard like the hood is ours boy don't make me pull your card
My
thinking about it, forgetting, & realized my competition getting slimmer
And then was like "Hold up, hold up, wait a minute, I get it, you're really only
and u know it
We Niggas from Lauderdale yeah we be on it
We gassin up we on fire
Elevate only get higher
These bitches be bald like some tires
And They
soundalikes, it's sad
Hard to tell the difference like they fake Louis bags
I don't fuck with that industry flow
What I do fuck with is that industry dough
BMI,
here and summer's
Holding like wool
So let it be known, I had to get flown
Unless Mase plays the Vaughan
Mason I'm racing
Up the side, a little
please give it up so I can live it up
Just like the rich but I still eat grits
I don't know karate
But I can still beat the dog shit out of Nazis
You
Got out the airport the Mobb pick me up in the truck
Jury junkie like fuck I ain't scared to get stuck
So what's the deal poppy?
You heard
went bezerk, it's like clockwork
Rockport Mr. Raw God, hold the fort
Collect thoughts, elect sports, sideswipe, by the white horse
French
went bezerk, it's like clockwork
Rockport Mr. Raw God, hold the fort
Collect thoughts, elect sports, sideswipe, by the white horse
French
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