Lyrics:
coming straight home
Yo this shit is gonna be all about the hype
I'm not sayin that there isn't gonna be a depressing song, or anything
But I promise you,
her cut
My dick up every time
I let her suck
There is so much blood
That it looks
Like a crime
A a always has my face
Like I am sucking on a lime
My
niggas live
We real niggas that's God-body, challenge anything, make major moves
Let my niggas live
We giants, live off the land lions, post with iron,
when I do
the ladies will know by the way that I write
By the way that I write
This is a crime this is a crime
Chicka chicka chicka wick
Wickeder rhyme
My dick more mass than the Earth
Your dick half staff (it needs work)
My dick been there done that
Your dick sits there with dunce cap
My
of
Possibility that is out there
If you go and find information
And don’t believe everything
The fucking internet is telling you!
There is possibilities! There’s
mccarron-walter
Act and a lot of other ways, is start by saying that they're
Protecting the public from wicked rock bands, or girlie magazines, or
Whatever. but,
a pic of my dick on a shirt that says “Mahawam”
And then wear that shit every day
‘Cause
Good things for the right reason, right?
And anything in
me. I'm something to put up with. And to endure that is amazing. I'll be the first to tell you, trust me. y'all could clap 'cause that's some real work
correct me if I'm wrong, you always playing his song
Did you (fuck that nigga?)
That nigga all over the world and I heard he got a girl
How you (fuck
rosy man
Oh is that your chick
Why she all in his six?
With her hand on his dick
Keep licking her lips
Is that your chick?
Why she all in his
her)
Fine she a dime showin off (I fucked her)
Caught her at the club by the deal for real
Ask to what it is and she let her nigga trill (YEAHRRR)
To bring anything into your life
Just imagine that it's already there
Because anything anything that you can imagine
You can create
I can have
is what you gonna say
That I got the best D, he could hit it all day
Something like a rising star that's on Broadway
Sex real live with a Illmatic
dicks
(Nah that ain't us, yo)
We just want to fuck with
Niggas with big dicks (yeah that's us)
(I want some good pussy) big dicks
(some good pussy) big
to you
She had cat eyes, nine lives, no tan lines, thigh highs
She ride me like a drive by, I'm real these niggas Sci-Fi
But that's neither here nor there
some dogs, we just some dogs
[Method Man]
By any means necessary, it's on
Bitch, your fucking with a dog, all I wanna do is bury some bones
Take
captains pick sides
And anyone who has those outdoor wind chimes
Cos there's nothing wrong with hating stuff
Everyone says that there is
But there's nothing
rapping
Never cared if I'm the best at this rap shit
Drop a tape if the homies like it that's a fucking classic
I'm in the with the top off
All the
there anything? Isn't there anything?)
Maybe perfectly balanced mutualism is a myth
(How do oxpeckers know that the rhinos don't want them to go?)
But
between the wrong and right
The end is nigh
Hip-hops Armageddon needs a Messiah
We need a new riot
Hell yeah I'll be that guy
You killed the rap devil
right on it
Name anything freaky and you know I'm 'bout that shit
Only time I'm not on the dick is when I'm 'bout to shit
Pubic hairs all in my mouth, not
that pussy ass shit, She want that real nigga dick
Fuck that fake shit, she want that real nigga dick
[Verse 1]
Murder with no guns is all we know
the car keys in it
I'm getting out
Each brick is a pixel
Each step is a stitch in the dust
Grass it'll whistle
Buzzed by the breath with your lungs
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