Lyrics:
a good reason
To let anything rip
Radio's cold
Soul is infected
One by one
I'll knock you out
God is alone
Hardware defective
One by one
I'll
Don't need a good reason
To let anything rip
Radio's cold
Solar's infected
One by one
I'll knock you out
God is alone
Hardware defective
One
side of the floor
I've got some letters inside of my drawer
that should have been sent by now
Sealed in an envelope
One is addressed to my ex
and it
second, guided by Mr. Saadiq and Davis Way in the piano section
Now check it, this is The Isis Papers, Frances Cress Welsing, belting the memory banks with
V128 Woman 3 Finkelstein
By the way, I’m 54, age discrimination I won’t ignore.
V130 Fanny
Go on Mrs. Finkelstein, you have the floor…
V131 Woman 3
And took off all the floor's tarnish
It devoured his favorite shoes
And sucked in the color blue
It picked up the President's dog
And stripped the White
cinco. Unos dos and trios them fingers my lingo. Aye. My recipe is unorthodox. Pay me for game I got more in stock. I forgot all my edits for radio I’m in
shit shocked everybody
Put the money in the bag bitch before I blow yo head off
Get yo ass on the floor nigga think a motherfucka playin' with y'all
†to the nextplateau, level, like hendrix
Jimi open your and set it off the hinges.
So sick when you see sin your skin cringes.
You wanna radio edit
Girl I'm in love with you baby.
And I want you to know.
That I'm hooked on your body.
And I'm trying to be your's
Radio killa
Now she
motorcycles coming
By now, police motorcycles. Just heard a call on the radio for all
Units along Industrial, to pick up the
Motorcade.
Somethings
Don't hurt me none, don't hurt my pride
'Cause I got my little lady right by my side
She's a-tryin' to hide
Pretendin' she don't know me
I's out
Don't hurt me none, don't hurt my pride
'Cause I got my little lady right by my side
She's a-tryin' to hide
Pretendin' she don't know me
I's out
hit by, miss by inches
Nowadays on the radio, that don't get my interest
Since it's bullshit, then I'm good with my senses
Don't make out with that
platinum
We know the presidents are flowin' by who's sackin' them
I'm that type of guy when poppa wasn't happy with it
Trippin' them up, that was my
But I got the radio bumpin' Jagged Edge by the bed
When you wanna get up witcha cutty buddy
Come on and dip off through the hideout with Twist'
But
[Backstreet Boys - Hey, Mr. DJ (Keep Playin' This Song) [Radio Mix]]
Aah, Backstreet
Yes yes y'all
One time, here we go (yes yes y'all)
Ooh, ooh
on the table
Me and my baby
Are out there on the floor
We're havin' a party
Everybody's swinging
Dancing to the music
On the radio
So listen, Mr. DJ
feelin' myself
And with the number one single, I'm feelin' my wealth
Yeah, Now what you know about me
Call me Mr. '08, 'cause this year about me
I'm
(ohh-oh-ohh, all the above)
Uhh, uhh (ohh-oh-ohh)
[Beanie Sigel]
Yeah, Mr. Him F'Real is here
Curbside by Atlanta, got a mill' out there
Billionaires Boys
Probably cause I live by the art of for-keeps
I get indicted after my product's released
We a different form, a different centrifugal force
Every line is
is literal I swear
All the people hit the floor, it was blown up by a bear
And he must have had a bomb, but I really couldn’t tell
Then a wizard in
lettuce go
Incredible YO!
This is what I mean
An ANTI NIGGA machine
I ain't got no radio edits!
Baby we don't come clean
Yet I
Stay on my JERU
A dirty
at the living room
Listen to the music about that radio edit
I was jaming it that was my favorite song
About "Ain't No Fun" by Snoop N' Nate Dogg
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