Lyrics:
gotta die, I'd rather homicide
I ain't have fifty cent when my grandmama died
Now I'm goin' back to Cali with my Jacob on, see how time fly?
Hate it
am the one (Oh, baby)
But the kid is not my son
(Hee hee hee, no no no, hee hee hee) hoo!
Rock with You
Your butt is mine, gonna tell you right, ah
with mad stitches
Your last resting place'll be a ditch kid
No one can stop me, try your style's sloppy
You want to be me, you're just an imitation copy
rehab with this kid named Oscar
who got stung by a bee right on the lip and we couldn't
even talk to each other until the fifth week because both
our lips
with an AK
The situation so twisted everybody gettin' lifted
I'm just tryin' to take care of my kids and handle my business
'Cause it way too serious
dismissed
What the fuck you mean by pride?
I got 4, 5, 6 kids wanna see me die
Okay, I'm alive, I'm alive,thats a surprise, what's the price?
Fuck your
she's like too perfect, I suppose
But she know I need her when I'm so lonely
And I got everything that I'd ever need
And she made me wanna believe
Hoffa, under the Renaissance, bitch
You get bombed like Lebanon with my own tactic
I snatch your head like one of Saddam's kids
Motherfucker, I'll
I gotta die, I'd rather homicide
I ain't have 50 Cent when my grandmama died
Now I'm goin' back to Cali with my Jacob on
See how time fly?
Hate
of it out of the way
To help whoever I'd hire to repair the fence
I was breakin' out with sweat
When a neighbor appeared out of nowhere
And said,
dinner? Anything but Mexican
Selena Gomez spread them legs, we eatin' Mexican
I just might have eight kids like a Mexican
Beat my kids with a shoe like
with an AK
The situation so twisted everybody gettin' lifted
I'm just tryin' to take care of my kids and handle my business
'Cause it way too serious
just kids then
We was just kids then
We was just kids
Just horny ass Kids
Remember back in class, remedial math
You would sit up at the front, and I'd
bring the conflict, I sing of conflict, I'm in a conflict... I'd rather be
artistic.
Painting pictures with my words while freaking a tar pit, you're
at your funeral
The Zig's on my hip with an extra clip
Cause I'd rather be tried by 12 than carried by 6
La-di-da-di
Saturday night and we like
at your funeral
The Zig's on my hip with an extra clip
Cause I'd rather be tried by 12 than carried by 6
La-di-da-di
Saturday night and we like
at your funeral
The Zig's on my hip with an extra clip
'Cause I'd rather be tried by 12 than carried by 6
La-di-da-di
Saturday night and we like
message and its essence spread like the sun shine
Can I sing my lonely self a little lullaby
Can I manifest a dream I had the other night
Can I make my
an artist I can sing I want you to mess with my band
Came to me crying when you messed up and I got played by your hand
I sometimes still don't feel like Matt
Ayo, I remember Marvin Gaye, used to sing to me
He had me feelin' like black was the thing to be
And suddenly the ghetto didn't seem so tough
you tell me who you see
A Japanese kid with a redneck
I attest I can't rest till I be the best
Sake by my bedside, can only be a landslide
I coincide
What happened to the kid in the baseball cap?
Well he's trying to get home but I 'think he lost the 'map
What happened to the kid with the 'braces
(Chorus)
she's a fairy with broken wings
I used to watch her perform
And if she hears me I hope she sings songs
That had me going right back
buttons tryna run my life
And they call out my rhymes like they got a say in it
I'm doing me and as long as I know that I'll skate with it
Ain't tryna play
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