Lyrics:
up some black leprechaun
In the Grubba leaf
Pick me right up woah
Pick up the mic or the keys or the pack i don't care it's a flip it's a buck it's
turn him up"
You on that "I never heard him don't turn him up"
That was a CD, eject it and burn it up
Cut on dat J cause he gonna come with it
That boy
through minds, I chase
Babylon, and, Pure Lands
Diary of
A Black Buddha writing sutras on these instrumentals
A Black Boy, found, naps in the pen
Welcome to Rap City, it's your boy Big Tigger and I'm
Happy to introduce my guest, Mr. Busta Rhymes
It's Busta Bus, you know the god you trust,
I ain't makin' deals with the devil, boy, I'm holy
Saw me on the bell, boy, why y'all actin' like y'all know me
I done been there, done that, so
[Slim Thug][Hook: x 2]
When I hit the club all the girls show me love
While I'm at the bar, got drank by the jug
In the v.i.p with the chicks
[Slim Thug][Hook: x 2]
When I hit the club all the girls show me love
While I'm at the bar, got drank by the jug
In the v.i.p with the chicks
They judge me but don't me
Ion fuck w y'all I'm low key
Imma do it all by my lonely
She told me she think imma blessin
I'm fly she like how I'm
Don't like the way he's treating you
Oh what a bummer
No point in playing by the rules
Let's get in trouble
He thought he had what you needed
Really
empire, no realtor rap
I probably got a billion raps, uh
I'm bout to pass a bill to rap, uh
If I don't get signed with Cole by Hov I'll ghostwrite and make
Same with Chuck's orange suit
And his sunburst fender
Howling wolves aren't out in front
Sitting by the bus in black
And the eerie muddy waters
Making
at it, after mathematics
In the home of drive-by's and ak-matics
Swap meets, sticky green, and bad traffic
I dip through, then I give you (still)
flip the crack
And I'm quick to click and spit the gat
I be dipped in black
Sip the Coke mixed with Jack - Calico, clip to match
Like: where them cats
Buck down
Squad pretty hittas, ride sim simma
Ride low key in a all black bimma
Y'all know Keysh ain't lookin' for no beef
Mans in the street tryna
blue by tonight
Beaded noose round the neck kinda tight
They be like
How you lonely in a room full of god
He don't answer and my thoughts getting
Roll with Dreadknotts, Cardy boys, and a mil', phat killas
Raw CD twelve, but don't mind that
And we should hit the telly up, I got the Remy
just don't believe that shit
Where were you when I was lonely And needed you to hold me
Back before I got good at this music biz
Yeah you didn't want me,
to get heard
The uncut give it to niggas raw gets absorb
Why is it that every black brother talks the slang
Why is it that slang determines if a brother
CD twice, they see me in the streets
They be like, "Yo he nice, but that's on the low though"
Be the cats with no dough, tried to play me at my show
Sometimes at night
The black sky shines so bright
Bring more light then the sunniest days
Don't you feel that spirit?
Dont you feel that spirit?
at it, after mathematics
In the home of drive-by's and ak-matics
Swap meets, sticky green, and bad traffic
I dip through, then I give you (still)
you're walking through the rain
Still I maintain
The top can get so lonely
The top can get so lonely
But it's better than the bottom
You told me
sleep
I pile my rhymes by the heap on cassettes, Lp's, cd's and 12 inches
Perform the shit and get the girl like pinches
With good intentions, the key
my home
I put the chrome to my dome when I'm all alone
By my lonely, I'm gonna join my dead homie
No hope, and I can't cope with the mental stress
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