Lyrics:
of the rainbow land of the llello
Dope fiends on my payroll, got rocks to blow
behind the stop and go they holla
goodness graious great balls of snow
Don't speed
I record fire, fire catches fire
Fire me fire man I'm burning up
Hot as flames fire, I'm on fire man
Mr. Fireman, come again?
I record dope dope
I record fire, fire catches fire
Fire me, fire man I'm burning up
Hot as flames fire, I'm on fire man
Mr. Fireman, come again
I record dope dope
the opps, cuz I'll spend they block
Got the coke in the U-Haul, and I got a Glock
Dirty old white nigga, just want a bag of rocks
Boy I'm fresh off the boat,
limo
In another world
with cellular phones
to watch you
drink blood of black boys
rock their money
drink blood of black boys
rock their money
still on the grind in the trap for the dope boys
Speedballin freefallin in my own moon and my own zone
Boy life is short gonna suck it up
Arsty-fartsy
Yo
Beast
Big man things on deck (dope nation )
Chock for the corner and wedge (abos3n)
Make you no rush, boys no for sweat (Mole)
Untouchable
Nigga never had to rap bout me, word to my mother
I spit that fire like I'm propane, niggas call me cocaine
Now I'm in the dope game, used to rock
runnin' was a dope-boy (dope-boy)
Now I save a hoe like a lifeguard
An' I got the Molly by the eightball (yeah)
I get the bag on a day-day
I fucked
or get smoked
We come by the masses you come and get choked
If you take me for a fool I'll take you for a joke
Tired of fast food so they cooked up dope
love from me
I got love for D-Boys cause D-Boys got love from me
[Hook x2]
[Outro]
We in this baby boy swervin'
E-40 in the mob scene
like Fabo hood like Shawty
So tell me when to go like my name E-40
A rich rock star nigga I'm gonna party
Got a party pack of pillz that's at least
be
But I bet your husband ain't Icy like me
She stand on B.C. in my ashy black tee
When them dope man Nike's and them jore ass jeans
I don't pay
debuted and put
The city on wax a lot of Biggie comparisons
We all was aware of them
But that wasn't my MO
I just thought he was dope
Can't understand why
Lyrical styles which is true
Done by the A the E the I, I mean Chip Fu
I drippity-drop on hip-hop
I love rub-a-dub because it's crisp
So you really got
peace, Wayne Head and Purp, them boys down to earth
She know I'm a beast in every angle, you can call me Kurt
Flipped her over by her ankles, locked her
right here man
All these rappin' niggaz talkin about they dope boys, they real niggaz man
I don't know - I don't see these niggaz, feel me?
So I wanted
Then I know I've been doin' my job 'cause there'll be sweat pourin'
So pick and choose your weapon but don't slip
I'm here to kill you boys with
addition listen close to the mission
The P.E.T.E.R.O.C.K., resume
With the route to Brut by Faberge
No doubt, to shout about a 20-bar segment
Off spring
lay, he lay, he lay
In the grave he lay, he lay
In the grave he lay, he lay, he lay
L E G I T Ballaz
Screamin' stop killin' for dollars
From G I, from
Yamborghini-high, Lambo by the crib
This is how it is, yeah, these niggas fake
No, we can't relate
Boys get Yamborghini-high, Lambo by the crib
extending my
Hand that boy's a rat
And I don't party in them
Clubs where informants at
Cause they watching, and the listening
And they plotting with they
Ref.
Let it snow in the summer maak die jonnies
Dope boy winter linkerkant 140
Barki staan carnisse raap nog snel een meepikker
Twee staan te
New girls bumper
New dope bumper
Can't bowl for nothing
Two gutter brother
No cowabunga
Ride rubber
Fuck'em
Mid finger
Fuck'em
Rock all this data
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