Lyrics:
care
About what's gonna happen to you in a year from now
Maybe I'll be there to shake your hand
Maybe I'll be there to share the land
That they'll be
who care
About what's gonna happen to you in a year from now
Maybe I'll be there to shake your hand
Maybe I'll be there to share the land
That
from distance when the name rings bells you feel the suction
So in order to survive while going to J-Live
realize to speak wise by the way your lyrics
come and meet me bring them bloods and lets do this fuckin shit
rock bottom Yo homie i see my New York people
Come on all my bloods throw your hands in
Deeper in and deeper still
Use your hands for eyes
Sift around the bottom row
And soon will be your time
Keep your hands by your side
Hands by
split it
Cause they followin' the vision
Like M.J. and Scottie Pippen
Dennis Rodman how I'm feelin'
Give a fuck bout they opinion
I pull up in windows
Niggas pussy they ain't pull up I gave the addy, It's in me not on me, 12th grade they kicked me out for trapping, I cut off some homies they had they hand
whip whip that deal dough
You gon have to pay that shit back
On the real tho
Self made
Something they don’t know
Big honey pot
Ain’t no hands up in it
cin't no hands up in it tho
I been it tho
On my Dennis Menace flow
cin't no gimmicks just deliverance of the Sickness that I sow
Most these rappers one
on the spot
I'm more chillier than Dennis-in
Finishin' up my zip
Quick to make my grip
You fuck around and get licked
By the Luni click
So that
Noah, Noah let me come in
Door's all locked and window pinned
Keep your hand on that plow, hold on
Hold on, hold on, keep your
Hand on that plow,
in my head
Put out my lyrics for you critics to go and think again
My head be banging I'm thinking if I should rap again
Like Simon says I keep doing
Listen
It's about to go down
You know how we do it alright
I need y'all to snap your fingers yeah uhn yeah
Tryna be pessimistic with this music in
TWO hands on my gun
32 sticks in the trunk
Gas all in my lungs
Boy yeah stick ta alcohol
Ima still sip this red
38 sticks in his head
38 click,
like its some kinda disease
[Chorus]
[Verse 2]
Well i hope u aint tired of clappin yo hands
Cause we jus got in tha club
I spend 75 dollas on this
I wasted a rescue
Abandoned the mission
I've failed by my own hand
And watched it all go wrong
You said You could save me
That I couldn't save
or two
Get up and clap yo hands
Come on and clap yo hands
Get up and clap yo hands
Come on and clap yo hands
A few hours in the jam and a fighter
Jeans
could cut it
Four fifty eight as I bounce in the lac
Swing by the telly to drop off a pack
Chop up a brick and ship that to the trap
It's all in pursuit
Wanna hear some funky Dixieland pretty mama come on take me by the hand
Hey, did you hear, about the one that got away
They say, he looked left
It's coming down in sheets of rain
Water's running in the drains
I lie with candles in my bed
Brian Wilson in my head
Dennis Wilson, Sharon Tate
exercise
All the people
So many people
And they all go hand-in-hand
Hand-in-hand through their parklife
Know what I mean?
I get up when I want
hands up
Put em up
And if you feel me, then
Put ya hands up
Put ya hands up
Put ya hands up
Put em up
Rambling in tandem random antonyms: You the coldest,
by my way
(You come by my way)
When I put my hands on you (And when I put my hands on you)
I wanna feel everything you got to give me girl, okay?
the original vocalist
I'd like to say rest in peace to Dennis Brown
If tomorrow is Judgement Day (lighers in the air)
And I'm standing on the front line
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