Lyrics:
Ouuuh!
You should know me by now
Say
Oh...
Na na na
Peter F to the Z you should know me by now
Say
I'ma Ganja man planta
Sugar man Fanta
She call
I woke up good
On my Mr. Miller shit
My momma tryna cover my eyes
I ain innocent
My father he so full of pride but he ain't innocent
A month's rent
friend Mr. Skipijankings now storming off
the forced hole, not with out hearing some expletive
words hurled at him by the classless lord of the lace.
Tears
We raced everyday and he'd tie up my shoes
Using the smooth sublte ways his fingers laced up all the loops
Then I started to fall on my face and saw
"Mrs. Johnson
You're wearin' your dresses way too high
It's been reported you've been drinking
And running round with men and goin' wild
Now we
"Mrs. Johnson
You're wearin' your dresses way too high
It's reported you've been drinking
And a-running round with men and goin' wild
And we don't
In my sector
No you ain't
Invited in my sector
In my sector
They gon' press you
They gon'
Put some pressure
In my sector
We gon' check
You on some Mr
to the Roc)
This is the last call for alcohol for my niggas
(Mr. Rockefeller)
So get your ass up off the wall
So this A&R over at Roc-A-Fella, named Hip
grow a family tree with a nigga, yea
Yea I love the way you take my time
Quick to hit you when you bang my line
You know I pull up to your crib by nine
your dancing spell my way, I promise to go under it
Hey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me
I'm not sleepy and there ain't no place I'm going
your dancing spell my way, I promise to go under it
Hey, Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me
I'm not sleepy and there ain't no place I'm going
"Mrs. Johnson
You're wearin' your dresses way too high
It's been reported you've been drinking
And running round with men and goin' wild
Now we
proverbial bonnet
Let's find a way to end this peacefully
It was a beautiful summer day by the pool having a cookout
I was manning the grill, it was my house
happened by chance
I caught eyes with this hot guy
And then I fell into a trance
He must have felt the same
Because he kept looking my way
He started moving
of the late night shifts
You see me
She trying to be in the club twerkin, twerkin, twerkin
All up on this dick (ooh)
Yeah, so Mr. Manager
This is my two weeks
some tracks
With my beats mixed with some made by himself
Oh shit yes mine were made by myself
Bitch you listening this is Mr. Chris reppin hotline
way
I'm not in a hurry
I grew up with hip-hop
Bumping in my walk-man
I used to use it to drown out my mothers talking
Because she was always on my back
the sons
All were welcome, all would come
We went all the way
All the way down
We went all the way, all the way
I was King, Mr. Cool
Just
fucking us over
Like we a terroristic threat, the ghetto covered in soldiers
Fear my only chance to live is with my hand on the trigger
Way they did
rapper
Who swears he's makin' records
That's what they said whenever
I would walk by i never tripped though
Always kept my head up high
Eventually I knew
don't know bout them, nah
Don't know bout them, nah
But over here we getting money man
Over here we getting money man
I-Am
D-A-Double N-Y
Mr. I done
Anger, but yo that's Mr. Funkee Wallbanger
Concieved in the fire by you warned through disaters
The funky child was taught to the ways of the masters
Mr
No way I can't do it
Bust it up, Valens! - Anyway I can do it
And hey! That is why I say
Okay, I'm Mr. 1999. All of my life I say
Okay, I'm Mr. 1999.
to die, but by His grace, He took my place
Who's iller?
Mr. Doomzilla
Tryna shock the world 'fore I up and break the ceiling
Who's iller?
Mr. Doomzilla
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