Lyrics:
to see me
Like John Cena
High jab ya, huh, then wrap you like a turban
Pack a Stan in a can and ship him to Eminem
And say "Dax needs a feature" and
Pray
want to move swift, but don't blow like John Gotty
I'm something to watch, like the paparazzi
Hard to copy, shock waves can't stop me
Got
flows by myself
Pour more go go gadget
I'm in Slow Mo
4 More bars
I got double though
And a couple hoes
Running in yo door
Running to the dough
Running up
silk enough to shock ya
Hit you with the fifth, block-a block-a
If I get caught you can bet I'll blow trial
Be downtown swinging, m.o.p. style
Next
slaughtered
By the enemy's tools
You gotta die to self
cnd be Reborn
The Helper helps
So blow your horn!Ephesians 6:12 says
For we wrestle not against flesh
Gates
Derek Chauvin
People that drive slow in the fast lane
This list could go on forever so lets end it by simply saying
Literally everyone
Even you
Yes
Look, I'm so raw, turn the oven on
Chef Papa John, I get the parmesan
She want a yellow nigga, corn on the cob
Indian giver, slob on my knob
trillionaire
I got them bricks 4 the high
And the purp by the pound
I'm posted on the block till the sun go down, down
Nigga, I fuckin' hustle, nigga, I
up in a green tractor John Deer
Your bitch ass Is someone that we do not fear
Oh no
What's this
A big hoe
Grab the stick
We let It blow
Saint Nick
pain
I can get you John Doe by a no name
Catch him at the Chinese store
Pulled two sticks on him, we eatin' Lo Mein
Nah nigga, Smack can't hear
(hair)
the islands
Fuck a black ball go to war like John Gotti
Mexican hit make em board up the bodies
I throw out that k it blow Ronda Rousey
to my chest (wait for it, wait for it, wait)
I'll wait here and see
Which way the wind will blow
I'm taking my time watching the afterbirth of a nation
you take the whole of time represented by one year
But only in the first few moments of the 1st of January
It's a long way to go
And no, we're not
Did you ever get the felling you're being followed?
Are you not familiar with the Revelations of St.John
The final book of the Bible, prophesied
your whole team up)
Take care of B.I., Chef (got your back John John)
(Yeah, bust it, yo, yo)
Fly G.I. Nigga
Now, yo, yo, what up, yo? Time is
your whole team up)
Take care of B.I., Chef (got your back John John)
(Yeah, bust it, yo, yo)
Fly G.I. Nigga
Now, yo, yo, what up, yo? Time is
that)
Hollywood (Hey, Hollywood)
Now you wanna be seen as male groupies
Now you've become what you once despised
James Dean, John Belushi
Blow your
go again, who blow in like whirlwinds
Who kiss girlfriends, that kiss they girlfriends
Got to get it, and when I'm gone
Ya'll bury me with chrome,
you can bet i'll blow trial
Be +downtown swingin+, m.o.p. style
Next up!
[red] yo yo it's funk d.o.c.
[e-dub] yo, you're on the mic to rock
callin' me, callin' me
And I gotta go
Hold on, baby please
You can't leave now, no, John baby, please
We gonna get you to a hospital
As quickly
the time go
NcRRcTOR
Rose, Samuel, Margaret, and John
cdventurers, writers, scientists
Friends on paper, family in brick
Can add ‘time-travelers' to their
bonds men
I'm constant, on that paper chase
Blow zip codes from bricks to 8-1-8
Doc serve til you lickin' the plate
Battle royal, in the ring smoking like
it, Versace the top of my Audi
My plug, he John Gotti
He give me the dozen, I know that they're mighty
I mean I just left the Versace store
Like nothing to lose
Then rap with no effort
About being used
I be in my head
Like the lead in John F
Rest In Peace Raymond
That Nigga is Dead
I go by HB
-8643.jpg/225px-John_Scofield_(cropped)-8643.jpg "John Scofield")
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