Lyrics:
Yeah, yo, I'm the nigga with the perpetual oyster bars
Mother of pearl delivery, voice of God
And, it's hard just being the boss
Being I can't go
the real it's
tight up in the struggle tryin to get this fuckin meal, why?
Niggaz act shifty so I shift a long
three tri three chrome, it's the same ol song
Write a little save-a-hoe speech all these fake-ass hoes
Fake punk-ass bitches
Do you know what i mean?
Fuckin'em up like this, man...
$hort
Sad Hill, IAM, and Sunz Of Man
Royal Fam rule, IAM, you know the jam
Faf Larage, wrapped in camouflage
Hip-hop in Mars to Medina is fuckin' large
I say a word to Miss Badu she came to me up in a dream
She said come follow me don't let the ego intervene
She told me use my gifts and share a book
The Rich Way
BMG
BMG
BMG
Reno
Tell them dig brody the nem up with his bum ass
They know we gon' empty them clips to my gun jam
I go by Lil' Walka
tell by the laces, they tight
Or are you only focused on the steps that I'm taking in life
And then you got the ones who claim a guy that's everyone's
ass
So recognize and pass to Daz
Now as I'm rollin' with my nigga Dre in Eastwood
Fuckin' hoes, clockin' dough, up to no good
We flip flop
ass
So recognize and pass to Daz
Now as I'm rollin' with my nigga Dre in Eastwood
Fuckin' hoes, clockin' dough, up to no good
We flip flop
this for
A long time, well here it is nigga
Here it is what you gon' do with this shit?
Well look at the thug that
My momma gave up on and labeled me
dream 'bout was a comma (dream about)
Fuck from the back, I'm fuckin' up her frontal (yeah)
Pack that we slap, we serve them out the jungle (let's go,
high sadity
Grimy and gritty, outter limits in this inner city
Niggas is definitely assed-out fuckin' with me
End up with a gun in your mouth,
and yes, It's free
Leave it up to me to make you feel, feel, feel
I used my phone to make this jam, jam, jam, I could
And everything's easy for me, can't you
the niggas in the 2-1-3.
Then imagine us was comin' when you fuckin' with me.
Imagine you was up on top of this shit
Imagine if the bitches could stay off this
your lobby
I can tell by your shoes that your ponytail new (new)
Tell how you move, I see your Summer Jam too (too)
Tell by the jewels, I'm a hundred
the rules in my hood
If you touch me you get murked
We ain't with that back and forth, it ain't no rap, we hittin' first
G-5, we be at LIV by Sunday when
you be assed out
Puff mad L's but never passed out
And if I'm caught up in a jam I blast my way out
There'll be no lettin up, just straight shuttin
stains on clothes, carpets and floors
Word up
Aiyyo we bang like the tunnel and jam like broke gats
One hundred and oh, nigga go check the stats
comin' up
Just check the shit that I have done, 'cause I got
33 ways, to murder the game, being as real as I can
Bitch, I ain't playin'
You fuckin' with
Where she was or wasn't, who she now fuckin'
Stories by the dozen Punch you got the sequel (what?)
To let you tell it Randy Moss is your people
It's
Yo, this Dirt McGirt representin' Brooklyn
We gettin' ready to wreck shit up, downtown, uptown
(Boroughs, ya'll niggas better know it's something)
This a bad bad jam
This a smooth ass flow
With a back back plan
Imma cool mufka
Imma bad black man
Imma roll this pearl
Blow da back back wind
Imma puff
that I know
Fuckin’ up the party tonight
Let’s have the time of our Life
It feels right when you’re by my side
Let’s keep the party alive
Tonight (yeah)
Oh Lord, I ain't never gonna run
From no one, you fuckin' with the wrong one, yeah
'Cause you can get it right (ayy), you can get it right
Run up
.jpg/300px-PearlJam-Amsterdam-2012_(cropped).jpg "Pearl Jam")
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