Lyrics:
Guess I woke up on my bad side
This the mood catch a clue
Nothing that you say gone make it through
Guess I woke up on my bad side
What to do give me
a little better with you by my side
And you dance with me in the pale moonlight
Cause hell's a little better with you by my side
After the show we lay in
white
I might just break em off, when I come dripped out right
Im talkin shoes by Hirachi, shirts by Versace
Hoes they gone watch me, but they all wanna
broke em all down and we all got high
And niggas don't be trippin don't be doin no drive-bys
Cause we don't gangbang, don't wear blue or red
We like
on back, ready for the long haul
Tossed by the winds and the seas
I'll drag 'em all down to hell and I'll stand 'em at the wall
I'll sell 'em to their
that I don't like
Walked over to em, and said, "Whassup?"
The first nigga that I saw, hit em in the jaw
Ren started stompin' em, and so did E
By that
that I don't like
Walked over to em, and said, "Whassup?"
The first nigga that I saw, hit em in the jaw
Ren started stompin' em, and so did E
By that
with me (Hell nah)
I got little dudes thinking that they cool with me (Sike)
But I be chilling by myself hanging with my jewelry (Woo)
Me and my jewelry,
are
searching the square roughly turning over baskets and shaking down PASSERS-BY.
BRIAN appears near a rather dull little PROPHET, who is standing
the fast lane
Gettin' fucked by the past
Got my mind on my cash
And my next piece of ass, so fuck 'em all!
(That's right, bitch, fuck 'em all)
Come put your
over
We could spend a little time outside
All night
Hold me tight, babe, closer
'Cuz your company is feelin' alright
Alright
I can tell by her face,
Give the people what they want a little bit more-a
You don't know the score
What the hell you comin here for?
Whip that ass like grandpa used
Yo quiero sloppy, sloppy
I'll give it to you if you beat it up like Pacqui, Pacqui
I'ma kill 'em with the shoe, no ceiling is in the roof
And I'm
to the Armageddon, Lord
Know that I won't fly by that lesson
You taught me to pull out my Wesson you brought me
And I'm not stressing it softly
Get 'em up off me,
to the Armageddon, Lord
Know that I won't fly by that lesson
You taught me to pull out my Wesson you brought me
And I'm not stressing it softly
Get 'em up off me,
to the Armageddon, Lord
Know that I won't fly by that lesson
You taught me to pull out my Wesson you brought me
And I'm not stressing it softly
Get 'em up off me,
the room
She sees some buffoon
Blown away by her style
She goes out of her way
So that she can play
And make him beg for a little while
Shoot 'em
Let the rhythm hit 'em
I'm the arsenal
I got artillery lyrics of ammo
Rounds of rhythm
Then I'm 'a give 'em piano
Bring a bullet proof vest
Nothin'
Let the rhythm hit 'em
I'm the arsenal
I got artillery lyrics of ammo
Rounds of rhythm
Then I'm 'a give 'em piano
Bring a bullet proof vest
Nothin'
of control
Give me time, give me a chance
I’m tryna be bold
Everybody get up and dance,
While I’m on a roll
I said a little prayer hoping for a little bit
In your city whenever I come (What?)
They with the shit, and nah bitch
They don't give a fuck
Got money by the front of the hood
So I don't give a fuck
a little confused
Another flashback to when I went mad
It's like a heart attack, it's the ultimate proof
It's like a sudden wave, violent hurricane
Got me
Yeah, I plant the seed on the vine
We pray our family will survive
And grow to be strong in the sunshine
And grow to be strong in the sunshine
We give
We have got the little answers
To the things
That might' be bothering you!
We have got your little toys!
(we're busy makin' 'em!)
Busy makin' 'em
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