Lyrics:
try to think of bars
This hard it'll cause an aneurysm
Grams of get rolled up in backs pussy
Listen, every damn religion more
Fiction than fact pussy
And the walls all caved in
I knew more than just your name
When the stars are fading
And the times all changing
I knew more than just your name
Long walks
I deserve to play, it's been a few days, ain't showed it all
I go outside and breathe, roll down my sleeves and have a ball
Still got these bills
confused with Bill or Jack or Pete or Dennis
My name is Mudd
It's always been
And I'm the most boring sonsabitch you've ever seen
I dress in blue
Yes navy
a safe in the wall behind paintings of Mona Lisa
Chandeliers in the hall
Ten stuffed deer heads are on my living room wall
More bills than Stills & Nash
name
Blood stains on the floor, some things we can't change
I'm wishing for more, am I ungrateful for things
Or am I tired of living way below my means
paying bills
Fo realll, by our God damn selves
Fuck thirty niggas and she don't need help
(Stick that thang out!) Some more
Uh! uh! some more
their birthday in the worst way
See me at Victory, don't ask to see the skill
I'm sick of fanboys more obnoxious than Peter Hill
More robotic than Bill
This is Minister Metal Foot, treat a pedal like an earwig
And cook off by applyin' the same logic to the gearshift
Bird off prey circle, serf homes
why
You see, I'm six foot one, and I'm tons of fun
When I dress to a T,
You see, I got more clothes than Muhammad Ali
and I dress so viciously
I
the bottom for real
Had more memories
I strapped on my skis
I'ma make it in rap because this shit be more than a passion
Mom, I got you, I know it's gon'
to lose the bill in case it was a final warning
So we both tried to get the back off and work out
If there was any more screws to get out
Or if we left
pain
I can get you John Doe by a no name
Catch him at the Chinese store
Pulled two sticks on him, we eatin' Lo Mein
Nah nigga, Smack can't hear
(hair)
said it by mistake
My t-shirts make more money than your mixtape
I tell a boy Boy Better
Know it’s money making season
I book a flight to New York for no
the kind that explore
MC's, I blow 'em out, metaphor after metaphor
I'm more wetter than your boy bigger
So how you figure you can fuck with this rap
that explore
MC's, I blow 'em out, metaphor after metaphor
I'm more wetter than your boy bigger
So how you figure you can fuck with this rap unemployed
your mouth
I aint tripping I aint need a range
To know my aim
More than a grease stain
We gon stay the same
Always talking about some shit
That they
bills
Move more dollars bills more bills than Nantucket
And they don't like it they don't like that I'm right here
They don't like that I'm out here I'm
me
A different way
No more reason
Chasing my own way
Jesus loves me this I know
The Bible tells me so
The One who calls me by name
Who knows my every
a nigga not paying bills
Fo' real by our goddamn selves
Fuck thirty niggas and she don't need help
(Stick that thang out)
Uh, some more, uh, uh, some
suspect
That fills more body bags than apartments in projects
And as far as the coroners know
The autopsy show, it was a Shaolin blow
Put on by my
a well bow tis doe waaaaaaay!
Submitted by Zodiac
NIGHT GOAT:
She wants my way to feel
And I cut my teeth
It's more nine hundred miles
Oh,
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
In the ghetto
You think life is hard
Food stamps and tore up cars
Wall to wall dirty orange carpet
Sittin' in a bucket, hopin' you can start it
.jpg "Bill Gaither")
.jpg "Bill & Gloria Gaither")
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