Lyrics:
sittin' by the Benz grill
Not's a hundreds, it's lunch, kid, play fair
Stay here, feed your brother, be's a one, shit
Enough money to slum kids, kings will
emcee I kill come down
Check it out, come on
Here’s your chance to swing
With some ill motherfuckers
We don’t dance and sing
In ‘95 we’re out jingling,
or the bars
To bob your head and nod
I recall, so many never ever thought you'd make it
So sad they were mistaken
The joy they tried to take it
Mama said
or the bars
To bob your head and nod
I recall, so many never ever thought you'd make it
So sad they were mistaken
The joy they tried to take it
Mama said
a position to move
And you can't move cause your move is blocked by the knight
At twelve o'clock, that's when the madness begins
So I start to focus in, my
ol' Bob Johnson
Came down this way
And Devil say
Hey hey hey hey
Hey hey hey hey
Hey hey hey hey
When the balance comes due someday
And the monster
I’m a believer
You ain’t gotta' do no convincing
I know he did it
Wasn’t by myself he was with me
I’m a believer
I used to wanna come up missing
But
what'd you say?
Here I go, here I go
Bitch I'll back slap or back stab after that kidnap a whack rap
Bring it louder if you comin' to rap
Your arms
side
Who knows better than the Funkadelic devil himself
To all knotty head niggas, bob to this
Come walk with Def Squad on the darkside
Coming to you
heart
Mom I miss you much
I could still feel your touch
Even though your gone
I wrote you this song
Just to say
I wish
You were here
I can't front it's
you want two-thirds of me to stay outside? I'm a whole person. You can't say, you know, two-thirds of Lauryn, come in here. Only two-thirds is
a last look at the sky.
'Cause baby when I pass you by, my dust's gonna blind your eye, oh, Lord, my dust's gonna blind your eye."
Run, Molly, run. Look
By Bob Hartman
Based on Rom. 13:11
One moment gone into the past
But here and now will never last
You made the most of your design
You've walked
recognized by every eye worldwide
Back to the streets of the do or die hustler
I understand politics consistent, never quit
Super star write hits
Come have
Round here, shook niggas they keep it in motion
Come around here with your rollie you can get robbed like Ocean
Lord knows, Tommy had loved and sold
Walking towards the car, here come the damn cops
Now I'm station bound for the Thai sticks
I bought it for my man, I don't believe this shit
Coach sat me
Rock?"
None of your biz, fuck around and run in your crib
Wife like, "He ain't here," throw some to your wiz
Niggas running up on me 'til the tre' pound
cannons, piece by piece
Your School get Dazed like G Phi G
Murda murda murda, kill kill kill
Take nuts and screws out ferris wheels
If you ain't Missy, payin
MCs, how? To rhyme first
Of course you rap last, so you can show off your skirt
I guess it didn't work on "4 3 2 1"
You got out done by
What's your question?
What's Clef got to do with this, got to do with this?
What's Clef?
I'm not a Bob Marley impostor
What's Clef got to do with
your dreams come true
You're afraid of getting close, don't worry, we'll take things slow
Right now, all we have is time
A little Bob Marley
the right damn town to get killed
It's all about the game and nothin' else
You come out here, you better watch yourself
Cause you can wear what you want,
to fly up out it catch you at a club
You get me fiendin
Now, if you wanna roll with me
Then here's your chance
Doin eighty on the freeway
Catch me if you
I'ma stop at your house and blow the horn
If you come outside you know it's on
[Chorus]
[Lloyd Banks]
Bitches be frustrated with the baller
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