Lyrics:
worry 'bout them
Just worry 'bout you, and what you gonna do
And it'll be a long time before
You ever see me again
Don't worry 'bout me, don't worry 'bout
jeans, it makes me think of LL's troops
Let's celebrate, it's Queens Day, this one's for you
Queens Day, cash made on Hollis Ave
Q-B-O-R-O, nigga,
a collection plate (Hand)
I can sell 'em on Sunday
With the fuss you made (Hand)
I be stunting with the stunnas
And that's the best you make
So if everybody just
to rhyme
and I'm always guaranteed to be on time
You're like me, you got good taste just look at my bod' and face
Microphone wizard is in the race and I
Dizzy Gillespie is presented by Don Sebesky
I be cranking mad jack, got mad stacks of cool-out
You know we pull the smoke tool out
I give props
ready
Keep some killers by my side and some riders by the telli
I'm ready to do now, who now, you now
Eddie wasn't ready when they drew that, booyow
What ho sed de ting!
I'm back, nyaaah! You thought you got away with it, didn't you? But you didn't. No, not on your fourth little
box set of Run
to rhyme
and I'm always guaranteed to be on time
You're like me, you got good taste just look at my bod' and face
Microphone wizard is in the race and I
to rhyme
and I'm always guaranteed to be on time
You're like me, you got good taste just look at my bod' and face
Microphone wizard is in the race and I
I came by myself
My homie ain't got here yet but I all I needs myself
Eddie got that two for five, you know we staying lit
I don't ever miss, you know
pedophile bitch
You sleep with pre-teens
Unzip their Lee jeans and lick their feces
The dirty he-she who don't want to be seen
In capes cause your face
Looks
to college
I remember it was tragic, wrote this shit in one my classes
It go quarter K and you can get a face lift
I just only ever seen her face down
Tell her
wow
Rockstar living with that rockstar rhythm
Got that rockstar finger for the cop car, bitches
I feel like Eddie Van, puffing grams by the summer sand
the dumbest bitch in America
You know damn well that's not that boy dad
I wouldn't be mad if Future beat yo ass
Don't play games with a nigga kid
Nigga fuck
COUNT YOUR BLESSINGS (Instead of Sheep)
Eddie Fisher/Rosemary Clooney/Bing Crosby
(Irving Berlin)
from the 1954 movie "White Christmas".
When
climb, when I start, to rhyme
And I'm always guaranteed to be on time
You're like me, you got good taste just look at my bod' and face
Microphone
be sick if you leave
With my heart and all my dough
Me and Bill was in the garage tryna
Find a way to the studio
Me and Low sitting in the whip
So I
I was just trying to make it with Steve Stoute
The legal way, drug-free route
Back in the days, they was sleeping on us
Brooklyn keep on taking it,
proper
Want me to hit your jurisdiction
Just submit Chris an offer
Girls be neckin' on my wood in
Your neck of the woods
Groupie girlies give it up because
Fisher Price
Circle full winners with the baddest women cause we rich for life
Bet that's why them niggas hating
Money affiliated reason we every
[Repeat: x2]
Lord live within my heart.. Lord don't you ever stop..
Fill me up with what I need.. just have to ask I shall receive..
[KRS-One]
the reason you won't be around to win with me
I don't pay attention to people trying to judge my life
Cause I know none of them could live it
They way too big
smell your scent for miles
Just like animals, animals, like animals mals
Baby I’m-
I’m an underdog, but you’re dog food
Bear with me, no Biggie
It’ll
Eddie had a few days comin'
So he took a Las Vegas jaunt
Out to the land of supply and demand
Where you can get anything you want
He wasn't
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