Lyrics:
The red is for blood shed
The blue is for the sad ass songs
We be singin' in church
While white man's heaven is black man's hell
The stars what we way
about naira marley
So i sing them jamming by bob maley
Mama never wanted
Me been bolly
Son have turn a man
I am about been schooling
Always wanted me
them no go take pas my turf
This bars are cleavage I’m a bitch if I don’t get it off my chest
Brain wasn’t gifted by a fat man who ride
Deers
I
that
You hearing on a song?
These are things I see when
Flipping through my phone
Am I the same man as the pictures in my home
Get crucified by some
Ohhhhhhhhhh!
Hey yo, check it out man
ICP's back in the haugh man
Violent J, man
2 Dope, man
Wicked clown, man
Fuck yeah, man
Hey, quick,
reason, wasn't doin' nothin' wrong
You think I'm lyin', singin' that same ol' song
Well I'm a black man, ridin' in a Benz
How in the hell did I make
My father is a good man, but Lord let me say
He drank enough whiskey for me and bout fifty
Of my friends in '83.
There is another remedy, to which I
Stay open like 7/11 that's 24/7, when you need some hot shit
Stop by and get you a beverage, I'm servin'
My rhymes like nickels and dimes
Plug it
Stay open like 7/11 that's 24/7, when you need some hot shit
Stop by and get you a beverage, I'm servin'
My rhymes like nickels and dimes
Plug it
happened so quickly, so quick, by surprise
Right there in front of everyone's eyes
Greatest magic trick ever under the sun
Perfectly executed, skillfully
There was Everything but the Girl
Bob Geldof has no ego
That man should get the Nobel Prize
By the time he sang the solo on Feed the World
I thought he
started to fill in the background and when he started to sing
The entire bar leapt to its feet and began screaming and applauding
By the time the song
Weight on me like the clock of Flava Flav
By the end of this song I dug a grave
To bury these bitter succubus'
I'm a man on a mission
A galactic decision
Tom logged on to the dinner dream his husband made,
From the memories of their meal back in old Krakow,
He ceded his song desires to GG8 with his
and the next joint
Got enough songs baby Bobby going have his fucking bachelors
Or his masters
Or whatever he choose
Just know uncle T Man got your back
Tom Tom Tom Tom Muzic
I fucked up not wassup
Keepin it buck life gets rough
Yea shit sucks but I give two fucks
Gotta stay in touch wit yoself yup
to rock, YOU!
We're the kings of swing
And we're chosen to rule
The deans of clean inside the cool school
We're the chiefs of relief
Contained by wild
a brass knuckle
His jaw gon' be crumbling
Feel like Tom Jarvis, big man don't scare me
If I choose to speak up, my voice machete
When I'm with my brothers,
Stay open like 7/11 that's 24/7, when you need some hot shit
Stop by and get you a beverage, I'm servin'
My rhymes like nickels and dimes
Plug it
Welcome to yet another song by the guy
With the relaxed flow and unnamable style
An immovable object yet i move myself miles
With my sick beat
Tell em we going be alright, we going be ok, R.I.P. Tom Tom
Man Miss my Dawgs, They living way too far
Either locked behind them bars
Or living up in
song, and that bitch just passes by
So I, got lyrically complex, that way I could clock checks
Get my moms out the projects, with these concepts,
keep those songs alive
Those boys deserve some credit, don't forget it
Hit it, hit it
I go window cleaning, to earn an honest bob
For a nosey parker,
mean I was saved by the bell like Zack
Niggas better take tact
I'm a tit man so it's only right that I focus on the racks
When I get on I promise that
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