Lyrics:
Traumatized by shit I seen or heard
But making it just fine
Still question it like why?
Why you always call me when you're lonely?
Why you never call me when
where to start
I was living unaccomplished
I was flopping Marcus Smart
Didn't know what to call this
I'm MVP Joe Hart
I'm MVP Joe Hart
I finally made it
up jump the boogie
To the rhythm of the boogie, the beat
I say Hank can ya rock?
Can ya rock to the rhythm that just don't stop?
Can ya hip me
can sum up
My religious feelings in a couple
Of paragraphs first: I
Believe in you and me i'm
Like Albert Schweitzer and Bertrand
Russell and Albert
and bagging it up
Counting my money twice and that's what I call love
I tried to give you money you questioned me what's It's for
All I wanted was your love
what you like, uh huh
She pop up, pull up 'n ride
Was just on my mind, uh huh
Those thighs got me weak inside
Spend the week inside, uh huh
Did what I
such a spectacle
Mouth running circles got you gassed like a Texaco
You ain't in the game nigga you just sitting by the coach
Talking bout shooters, you
motherfucka
Wasting no time lately
I'm on next slide next slide
Billboards with my face on it
I'm that I'm that guy
Falling hoping
That you would just call me
us to talk about
Or the gun that I got handed down from my favorite unc make you walk it out
All these dogs crack me up no real bite just fucking bark
G's up in this bitch be jammin
Niggas comin down pop trunks just slammin
Niggas hit the van on the candy and them blades
Niggas stayin on me cause
to find out the master's name.
Down at the end, round by the corner.
Close to the edge, just by a river.
Seasons will pass you by.
I get up, I get down.
Smoking dank that exotic out the zip, what you call that?
Hundred fifty, bust down on my wrist, what you call that? (Coke Boy baby)
I be geek'd up
I promise to protect and serve my family
And the ones I love
By all means
It's my call of duty
Woke up, family calling my line
Real shit,
bitches shine
Make the sun hate me
Bitch I'm hot as fuck
In some bape sun bathing
Bitch you rot as fuck
And you so ungrateful
Brett hart sharp shooter
And I
of me, they about equal,
Call it a bust, when I'm all in a rut,
I'm a Klusterfuk, nigga y'all are just
FECAL,
growin' up low enough, musta sucked
call up the line
Get down wit', down wit' us
This is a request Mr. Radio Man
Just one desire from a hip-hop fan
Hey DJ (you're on the line
and the shit
I did before
The day they took my Mama away
That shit hart me more
Man I had no body to talk to
This shit ain't in person
Girl I fina be up with
call you)
I'll be waitin by the phone till the call come through
(Just don't call me, I'ma call you)
[Drift]
Yo see Drift has balled before
And I'ma
off like a gage when I step up on the stage
It's a flick of a switch when I jump up on the microphone
Got too big of a Hart just for me to be a Ride
the chronic by the tree
"I love it when you call me big poppa"
Throw your hands in the air, if you'se a true player
"I love it when you call me big pop-pa"
shit
2 drums and a cartridge
2 drums and a what
Hop up with my set, won't be too long
Go pay your debts, don't get me wrong
There's just too much going
I never want her
Now I want her back
Got me fucked up
Only call me when
You need some love
Cause your loves up
Now you only see me
When I'm coming
need my vibe, just call me
Yeah, and before I rest, God knows you the best, cause he made you a flex
Run up a check, just to go and invest, never digress
the bank, call me Chase, run up the bank, B-O-A
Through these tinted Fendi frames, I walk by faith
Five star dinner, just said grace, Ferrari champagne
This
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