Lyrics:
When I die
Fix that tie
See man that's why you can't go over there
That' why nobody has and that's why nobody ever will
One kid did and no body ever seen
vehicle next to us
Cause all of our vehicles, we dress 'em up
With television, Dreamcast, DVDs
Nice sounds, buttons, it's twenties
I'm a Cash Money Hot,
aint have to brush em off cos they all decayed
Man i get on the mic man i'm ripping it up
Aint like these other rappers just sippin a cup
Gimme a beat
needs (Jesus, Lord)
Sittin' by myself, I'm just thinkin'
About all I've been through, I wish I was dreamin' (Jesus)
Man, it's hard to be an angel
Sometimes your can't see where base is
Surrounded by bare strange faces
Far from home
But lifes what you make it
Rough with the smooth
It's just how
Harlem shake at 'cha wake uh
This plot thickens like the mud in the winter
Welcome to my crib
This the kingdom of sinners
Pick your poison
We'd love
you tough
Fuck with some riders, yeah, we get rough
Know we stay ready, so don't get too buck
Think it's a game, go head, call our bluff
Your light we
drapes up by the scruff of your neck
And start learning how to scuff
Think you're all tough
Shit hits the fan, man reach
I'm cold and hot like
Coke-a-snortin, cop a key
Coke man, coked up
Coke importing coke
Cocoa-cane, cocoa-cola
Ra-also me-leggo
Step up on the scene
Like a prince wearing purple
Purple
threes)
Youngin came up from the block he stealing whips with ease
My patna super seven he might spin like DVD
On my side it wicked
We just spent anotha
and bang
If a nigga don't know better peep the game
SUC we running thangs
Finna smash me a nigga
I'm a young gun nigga by the name of Trae
Wrecking this
needs (Jesus, Lord)
Sittin' by myself, I'm just thinkin'
About all I've been through, I wish I was dreamin' (Jesus)
Man, it's hard to be an angel
don't want the smoke (nah, niggas don't want no smoke)
She like it rough when we fuck, so I'm grabbin' that bitch by the throat (grr)
Niggas sayin' they
around kid and I'll Glock your mental
Stay fuckin' wit' ya man Benzino
Hardy on the side by the Rick Gambino
Burners on the side, that's how we be though
herb.
Built by the best to bust swerves, like a sharp curve.
Fifty percent on wax, no matter of fact.
Every nine out of ten rap acts produce a wack
Alright, wooh
We all came out to Montreux
On the Lake Geneva shoreline
To make records with a mobile
We didn't have much time, no
Frank Zappa
and Ariana Grande, came
Before she could zip she power-walked in like
A boss, joining the other two onstage
Both of them so skinny and with
Such rough angles
rough, but it can't be forever
We need change, a change for the better
We need love, love like a letter
We need hugs, 'cuz hugs come together
It seems
A hundred cc's of the uncut cleanest
In the vein, twenty-four hours of intravenous
To the left, we have right wing extremists
On a screen a man exposes his
shotgun (boom)
My son an icon (yeah), suck me with my ice on
Me and my day-ones too tight, we don't fall out 'bout no one
Run up them racks, shoebox like
bash, forgettin
The laws, created by the creators
There's no more masters, just master-perpetrators
We did time with the rhyme like a bid
Now we
standin' in the form amongst the children of the corn
Like the son of man stood with a crown made of thorns
The only difference is for you there'll be no
And by the way, you rappin' Nigga's,
I don't like you neitha'.
I mean, "either," proper gramma',
Pop a camera, man on that rap, DVD propaganda.
Yeah,
Aiyyo sweetie, you're lookin kinda pretty
What's a girl like you, doin in this rough city
I'm just here, tryin to hold my own ground
Yeah, I think
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