Lyrics:
Well, you can tell by the ring in my back pocket
I'm a can a day, and I been that way
Since grandpa and my first chaw
Fishing off the bank
You smell that fan in the window lettin' air in
Coals still burnin' outside from last weekend
Your truck done died it was runnin' all night
To be
done
Would you see me my love, would you wait for me?
Would you stand by the high prison gate for me?
Well they tell me it doesn't look great
on the way to the mall
Weekdays I'm an RN down at Kaiser
Weekends at church I'm a youth adviser
Just because I'm doing good I can't forget my roots
I can
and blow trial
You catch cal when you browse through my X-files
Who be next now?
Man's down, hands down
Hold ground by yo side when it go down
I dedicate
it
Then what you waitin' for?
Clicquot by the caseload
Ice buckets where they place those
Blowin' pesos, I don't chase hoes
If she's down she'll say
get Ta-hoes
Haters all in my face, can't see, blindfold
? on my feet, blew right by folks
Stuntin' on sucker niggas is what
I was designed for
Dead
just tryin' to get by
For that money on the side
There's no surprise
She's just tryin' to get by, oh I know
This ho lookin' for dollars
This ho
Momma got laid off in April
Daddy down sized in June
By the first week of October
The back foreclosed our home
Now it's the Christmas season
And my
Darkchild, 9-9
(They ain't ready for this)
Ja Rule
Uh, Darkchild
Yeah, yeah, yeah, damn
I couldn't think about the next man bangin' you
Hittin' it,
With an architectural design by TraxNYC, believe it
I'd ask to rock it, but I might fall
And by the way, how much of a ball was Live at Carnegie Hall?
better than your ex, gon' be better than your next
Baby Screwed Up so you better be from Tex-as
Can't seem to doubt that I creamed her out
Now you dream
static, I strap tools
Next up!
Yo I believe that's me
Yo, get on the mic and rock the symphony
[Erick Sermon]
Yo p!
Time to rock, the sound I got,
certificates
A privy seal to keep the feel of 1960 style
We'll comment on the decor and we'll help the passer by
And at dusk when work is over we'll continue
the ocean
And I changed my mind (woo)
Sunset's been a freak show
On the weekend
So I've been driving out to the suburbs
To park at the Goodwill
Out of bed at eight am
Out my head by half past ten
Out with mates and dates and friends
That's what I do at weekends
I can't talk and I
knows I would've let it happen.
Blame it on the weekends. God I need a cola now.
Oh we mumble loudly, wear our shame so proudly.
Wore our blank
you what a mother I can be
Remember Tuesday night when you're out bowling
You better have your butt back home by 9
Otherwise you're grounded for
Out of bed at eight am
Out my head by half past ten
Out with mates and dates and friends
That's what I do at weekends
I can't talk and I can't walk
something that you haven't done
And by the way, If you see your mom this weekend, will you be sure and
Tell her...
SATAN SATAN SATAN!!!!
Let's do it
Workin' all week, 9 to 5 for my money
So when the weekend comes I go get live with the honey
Rollin' down the street, I saw this
a crown
I need to get born, I need to get dead
I'm sick of the forms, I'm sick of being misread
By men in dashikis and their lefist weeklies
Colonized
Yo, on the M-I-C right about now, I go by the name of Big Daddy Kane
I got my Man Scoob Lover on the side of me
Dj Mister Cee on the wheels
why this is something for the radio
This rhyme is dedicated to the radio DJ's
That play all the hits on seven days
And even on the weekends
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