Lyrics:
Yeah, yeah, uh-huh, throw your hands in the air, throw your hands in the air
(They can't see him walking through the darkness)
Like this y'all, like
Tired of these rappers, tired of these jackers
I'm tired of these dances by these fuckin' backpackers
And I'm sick of all these hipsters, I'm sick
a trance
It's somethin' funny made by me and it's called the Biz Dance
I think the way I do it is so unique
By the way I move my hands, hip,s legs
well
We are some partying mothafuckas"
Tired of these rappers
Tired of these jackers
I'm tired of these dances
By these fucking backpackers
And I'm sick
Canada
They can balance and they can climb
Like their fathers before them
They'll walk the girders of the Manhattan skyline
Shine your light on me Miss
on a hot summers day
I wanna serve up the truth like its pink lemonade
CHORUS
So If you're wondering why I
Continue to try my
Skills at this rap game
Girl,
Ben
Hello Ben, this is Mr. Shaggee. Do you like George Ranch High School?
Ugh, no
Ben
Do you like chemistry class?
No
Hatin' on these raps?
No
Bobby got leukaemia, 14 years old
He looked like 65 when he died
He was a friend of mine
Those are people who died, died
Those are people who died, died
ain't all it's cracked up to be
The hover craft's cool but the air's so putrid
You can tell by the stench in the air
Blood's on the ground,
all ages
But it will make you go out like gorillas in cages
I used to sing songs myself but now I can't
I need the party people to help with this
Yeah here we go just go with the flow
I want to say something about this girl I know
She tried to play me out though check it out
This I
Digital, Childish Gambino
Mixtape demonstrations
This Oxycontin carbon monox'
And toxic concoction
Collapse your brain cells
They swell from lack
Mmm mmm, yeah
Oh I like this
I wanna tell this story
A little story about umm
A brother who you would think has everything goin' for himself
But
that's what I like, that's what I like
Sex by the fire at night
Silk sheets and diamonds all white
Lucky for you, that's what I like, that's what I like
Yeah, check check, testing
It's clear out there? Yeah
It's like I'm hang gliding over the hood, ha
Never worry (ohhh, no, no, no)
Check, let
Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh
Five drinks in on Friday night
We only came to dry your eyes
And get you out of your room
Now this bar has closed its doors
I
[Ruk:]
Ill Will...yeah yeah yo...Queensbridge niggas...crud love baby..
[Verse 1: Ruk]
Aiyo, I zone out
feelin' like I'm in Capone's house
starin'
of cali, I'll stunt like I caught jacob in a manhattan alley.
Hook- Lil Flip x2
We came to show you how to stunt, Big cars, Big Trucks, and bigger whips,
Lucky for you, that's what I like, that's what I like
Sex by the fire at night
Silk sheets and diamonds all white
Lucky for you, that's what I like
But this my call by the false Prophet, all Prophet
Harlem hustle, I can't at all knock it
But you hard when you go in the Lords pocket
What you
Tied to the same folk who loved you
And then used blood for the pie
Sick don’t look like it used to
And hearts can't eat off your fork
This goes out
wanted black, E was on the two-tone
Stupid boomin system with the hand-free phone
The dream gets better and I would like to go on
But I was brought back
signed us?
What if Oprah made them comments
Like Imus?
What if you designed this
Thought like I did?
Said it like this
What if Peyton was fighting
This is the third of June, 1988
A highly unimportant day
Some airplane gliding into one of the bigger clouds over Manhattan
In a downtown far
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