Lyrics:
talk, oh
Keep rushing me, stir me up by the minutes
I don't spend my nerve there, he thinks I'm acting
I empty mind, leads me to wrong altitude
I don't
of crazy stuff
Hash, a little bit of oil
Until my face is stuck
And I got a big bag of keef
And I'm loadin' up the zong
"Liberation" by Outkast
My favorite
them worms
Body vacant
Now that boy momma curlin up, cryin, and shakin
Nowadays not a soul you trust niggas fakin
They pray i fall off pray they die by
up the court
Lace up my And1s, I'm ready to score
Hold up, my mama said go do my chores
Clean up my room and then sweep up the floor
Take out
She said she wanna be famous
I said I'll leave you lameless
I said you can't come around
We gotta get the bag pull up in a truck
And you know we turning
laying
No analog it's digital criminals turned rapper times is changing
Niggas get flashier houses more plusher
Bitches giving ass up at ages more
Rapper times is changing
Niggas get flashier houses more plusher
Bitches giving ass up at ages more younger
Hands on the clock keep turning
Hands
the hips
They open up more with every single kick
Sidekicks help you get booty too
The correct term for that muscle is the gluteus
Sit-ups begin lying face
now you want to cuss too
>From Hi-top fades to jhericurl juice
Watch Marquis y'all, as I get loose!
Chorus
Verse 3: Fresh Kid Ice
Get on up, let me
the clip it make a Atheist just start prayin up to my God in heaven
Man I'm super fly I might 911
Hit your bitches buildin at a quarter 7
Man and bless her
with racks on the floor
Glock 19 with it, blowing his nose
You niggas ain't Lancey don't wanna be Foux
Like point-blank range I don't need me a scope
10
saying let's go
I grab it stand up, got vertigo (Dizzy)
But I push right through it
To get back to her home
back to her home
(Abode)
(Oooh)
(YAH!)
till its heaven
recognise, the black cat with the nine lives
get up off me nigga its bad luck to cross me
im poppin crystal shootin game like mid salls
Cut the music up please
Yeah, I should never leave hip-hop
Controlled by my two hands they go tick-tock
Around the clock, yes it's my time, my
from the poor
Nailed to the cross by your hands and your feet
Your washed up religion is now worthless and weak
Tenacious conviction has caught up with
to find out why they call
Me Mr blow it by the O i'm smoking on stage
Roll a blunt up at a show
While my niggas getting paid
Throwing money on the floor
do you like smokey on Friday
Can't be like Kodak, heard he fed up
Just like Tupac, keep my head up
Stackin my bread, never get stuck
It's all about
Slide imma ride by
Go and hit my line when you know that you ready girl
Slide imma ride by
And imma make sure that u get right
Slide imma ride by
U
(Damn james)
(Dolla $ign, Dolla $ign)
Who tryna, who tryna go? (Go)
Who gon' drop it down like there's money on the floor? (Ho)
Who tryna, who
fiending more, crack
Crack! cra-cra-cra-crack
Wake up in the morning
Same motherfucking time
Thinking money, get money
Got money on my mind
Fo'-five on my
back, let him live, don't let him die
Do you ever ask yourself
Is there a Heaven in the sky
Why can't we get it right
Cause we all live under
back, let him live, don't let him die
Do you ever ask yourself
Is there a Heaven in the sky
Why can't we get it right
Cause we all live
of Ciroc
Crib on the water got LeBron up the block
Money ain't the thing baby welcome to the Mark
Diced pineapples talking diamonds by the jar
Bitch so
Alright, feels like
Purp flight part two
Stupid
Let's go
Dive into the bottle
Yes i do my own stunts
Bitches like bananas, get em by the bunch
Eat
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