Lyrics:
Whoa!
A get your hands in the air, and get to clappin 'em
And like, back and forth because ah
This is, what you thought it wasn't
It beez,
Whoa!
A get your hands in the air, and get to clappin 'em
And like, back and forth because ah
This is, what you thought it wasn't
It beez,
Whoa!
A get your hands in the air, and get to clappin 'em
And like, back and forth because ah
This is, what you thought it wasn't
It beez,
need a transplant and a new gut
But I can't seem to find em tough luck, When I die don't get rid of my stuff
You should know by now I don't give two
Cause you got me curious, you probably look better when your dead
Nine by the spine, (5th in the holst)
Scum bag it's them D-Block boys, daddy kissin'
live by the code
But still tweaking
Put it in yo face
Them diamonds be becking
Vvs be becking
Treat a dime like a skit
We can link
We can fuck
fuck it, oh well
A nigga flow so well, I'm like a sampling kit
Give a fuck 'bout who get pissed about by samples and skits
Niggas mad I'm remixing
dead folks
You know my eyes nice and low like I make egg rolls, oh
I got them pills, we call 'em illies
I got the wet, I'm water whippin'
I rob his
dead nigga walking Frankenstein
Y'all was in a line I had to skip I couldn't waste no time
And I'm on my grind call me Chris Paul cause I'm dropping
ain't how moma rasied me, this how the hood made me
The D's call me by my government name
I be dumb and shoot up parks
Have niggaz runnin' like "Jesus
break off orgasmic pleasure
bring them to Mu-Shu fellas, who you tag teamin'
baptizin' wit ceemin' exercisin' them with demons
I go by the name of paul
Yo
Couple homies
Couple homies, aye
Couple homies they be sippin' like my tribe
Couple homies they be, they be sittin' by my side
Shootin' stars,
that say that say that
Catch me californicatin' on vacation down in Florida
Used to get 'em by the quarter now I get 'em by the border
We had bricks
of them sirens I dont buzz
Pick a cop that bugs me amateurs
[Chorus]
[Skit]
Oh man I'm out of gas
Let me stop by this house and see if anyboody in there
believe in seeds, only the forms they find it
Feel like I'm waiting for transformations
I judge my art by my own impatience
And my manhood
How can I define
can flow then you can ask E-Swift
If you don't believe Swift then you can call Steve Griff
If you don't believe Griff then step up to fuck with I
out of you, i blow your back out
I black out, its too much for an old soul like me
I may be young, but after all not my psyche
Im likely to die by my
some clarity
The current stash of rap artist are all fallacy
Please excuse my manners to feed the famished
Diseased and the lost I appease any calls
and find my friends
As fast as Eminem can rap But no, instead I met a 10
Who loves to dance and doesn't want to go to bed yet
Like what cost the rent in
Canon on me no this not no photoshoot
Boy
Please don't run up you know bro'nem shoot
Boy
We don't call no muthafuckin truce
Boy
You ain't got no
scream "Free Pimp C" but not see the pimp free (here I go)
[C-Murder]
Wake up, roll call, another day gone by
Now put a 'X' on November 25 I'm still
motherfucker
Never never play no fool wit the city dogs
Work for the ghosts wit cash in hand
Straight into the pocket to feed 'em
Guess why they call it cock
Sean Paul? (What's happenin'?)
Hey (hey), now ladies and gentlemen (uh-huh)
It's about that time to (it's about that time)
Turn this thang on out
Now
Sean Paul? (What's happenin'?)
Hey (hey), now ladies and gentlemen (uh-huh)
It's about that time to (it's about that time)
Turn this thang on out
Now
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