Lyrics:
opened up the door, headed up the stairs
Thought he heard a noise, but no one else was there
First sight he saw, struck him by surprise
Two shots was
A-B-C-D-E-F-G-H
I got a gal in Kalamazoo
Don't want to boast, but I know
She's the toast of Kalamazoo
(Zoo, zoo, zoo, zoo, zoo)
Years have
Just bring the liquor; there's already eight shawties
I'm on my way (way); let me stop by the store
Get a twelve pack of Corona plus a ounce of 'dro,
the place to be
G4, the M-I, get high
Float in the friendly sky
I’m that fly, tell my pilot the fourth
Far as raps, I murder tracks, Philly
I kill the shit
DJ (Jim Jonsin)
I want everybody to stop what they're doing (Mr. 305)
Now if you know you're with somebody
That you gon' take the hotel room
the squad's cappin', I'm in the mix
And i'd rather be touched by twelve, than laid by six
My kind, on the front line still standin
Mr. Billy Danze,
rockin' and clockin' and shockin' and rockin', go house
Everybody say, rock it, don't stop it
Well hit me, Mr. Biggs, Pow Wow, G L O B E
The Soul Sonic
slangin' pills
The Pepsi and the Cola, crocs and the cobra
Artist and promoter, pull the Phantom and the boat up
Like haan
Mr. Chow's when we chow down
Whole ride hazy tell her don't drive crazy
I got plans for you look in the sky baby
Fuck saving me Mrs. Smith you the pie lady
Fly lady G to fly baby
thought gets muggy
We them easy street kids from Mr. Bryant's basement
Wishin' for the Apollo, tryin' to get dough
Now my time moves slow, ain't
like flies
Can't we realize
In the pop music scene man
All these G's are calling me
And I'm looking at em like a spam risk
And I don't trust these big
I'ma muthafuckin Hillwood cowboy
5 40 ass raised Mr. C. Coy
A.k.a. El Coyote
Creepin' slow through the monte
Peace to my niggas in the grave
Girls the girls
With attitude
Till they come to get lick down
By the sound of a soul!
Rolling, teacher soul controlling
Shaheed on the tunes and flares
wanna be rolling in dough
I wanna couple massive castles all surrounded by moats
I want some big diddy fat bird I could ride up her hole
And a Yamaha jet
ready they ready we ready
We ready we ready
Rip jeans and my polo HCO be that logo
Wheat timbs not laced up nauti fresh by the boat load
Red head red
Big belly Mr Bobinsky
If it's beef
Call Laz or call Brisk g
If I leave the scene
They gonn' miss me
So mix the ginger with whiskey
And the sauce
shoot bulls-eye it's a hit G
So I don't see the sense in trying to act shifty
If I put it in a rap it's no cap, no time for lying and shit
We start
Hey, check it
What we have here
Is another one
The remix (ladies and gentleman)
Orchestrated
(You don't have to worry)
By the Puff Daddy
You're the Colosseum,
You're the top! You're the Louvre Museum,
You're a melody from a symphony by Strauss,
You're a Bendel bonnet, a Shakespeart
You're the Colosseum,
You're the top! You're the Louvre Museum,
You're a melody from a symphony by Strauss,
You're a Bendel bonnet, a Shakespeart
You're the Colosseum,
You're the top! You're the Louvre Museum,
You're a melody from a symphony by Strauss,
You're a Bendel bonnet, a Shakespeart
horses
I'ma show ya who the boss of intercourse is
Sex, I'm takin' no losses
Even groups like SWV and TLC
Can't see B-I-G with telepathy
The recipe,
bitch airplane mode code
No peacoat no time to change clothes, same clothes
Love if you living by the same code, G code, leave ho
Fuck it you dead
it's lookin' like I run things
Runnin' shit, diarrhea
And ever since my dad died I ran out of fear
G5 through the sky boy we outta here
Sippin P&J fresh
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