Lyrics:
mother's dick, asshole
" all that shit hit it DMX
Check it out now, to my man, KRS-One
To my all time brother Scott La Rock
He's in here forever right about
on
This a treat, ain't it, so initiate the powder room
I pull it back and check my rosie, and yeah, I'm 'bout to bloom
It's that ninety raised from hell
gettin' full of this Henn' sir
In my pants, yeah I keep about ten sir
I'm a loner, no I don't need friends sir
Got about ten bad bitches in the Benz sir
would come record it
With phonetic clone software who ever woulda thought it?
But I included numbers in my rap unsupported
By their new OS that's why OS
a fuck about
Mic cords, at night, swords get up
Together, black wrists get cuffed
I'm wishin' for a change
My man want his change in a cup
Yes, Sir, I'm in
to hot
To be placed in a box
Life always gave me seeds what You hearing is the crops
Distracted by ass
Like Sir Mix A Lot
They gon throw these hoes at me
to hot to be placed in a box
Life always gave me seeds what you hearing is the crops
Distracted by ass like Sir Mix A Lot
They gon throw these hoes at me
me, and what I feel
Might find their legs bein' replaced by steel
This is a brand new year, and the penalty is death
So there won't be a lot
a lot of shit with my own eyes
I been on the same grind for a long time
I done seen a lot of shit with my own eyes
Aye Woah let me check uh my let me
Laughing to the bank now
I was never class clown
So smoove and I ain't talking about Chris
Trying to make a bank roll off of talking my shit
Life from common
and that's my word to the cipher
About to bring it to your chest and cause strife, check it out
You're doubling back to your rhyming pad
What I represent
sent ‘em
But guess what y'all? That's my actual face sir. What?
cnd it's glowing slime green like my tactical laser [Tactical laser]
I made it all
the garage, I'm a get me in that man
My Bad Side
I want him, I want Mix-A-Lot man
I know well listen, take him out man
He dissed my sister
Don't let
gonna take the shit
No more, I'll make it happen bit by bit
So I, rang my bank on the phone
They say, I got a bring proof along
लो जला पताके, सपनो
it up, for four hours with the money
I go bang, bang, bang, bang, for the power and the money
All these zeros in my check, the bank keep piling up my
choice man I gotta get it
And I ain't stoppin' til my bank account break the bank and say a lot of digits
A lot niggas they be talkin' shit never ever
on the way
But I got a lot in my way
An I am not never gon change
Only thing you might see change
Is all of the digits in bank
All of the digits inside of my
getting off the 405
Be with this bad bitch, she living in the south
I'm met her at the club with my nigga Gotti
5-3, thick, with a lot of pride
wife because of it
But I got this life because of it
Told ya, game don't never get old
[Sir Mix-A-Lot - talking]
Yeah don't grab the game bull by
(WALKKK)
wet like
We take any threat like
Came up on the check line
She slangin' that neck like
Do whatever I need
if she fuckin with me
All my
that ain't love
That ain't motherfucking love
Sir Mix a lot ain't done shit for me
Ain't no famous rappers out here
Making shit for the streets
My
(*background is Black Sabbath's "Iron Man," performed by the group Metal Church*)
(*chanting*)
[Verse 1]
You could strike a match in my hand
Too
Residue all on the dishes, I bag it up with my mistress
I mix the pleasure with business, I mix the lean like a chemist
I play the co at the 38, run
from Monday to Sunday
Got a big bank on me
Too many bands in my bank account
A lot of blue hunnids, a large amount
Got a brick of some dope, put
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