Lyrics:
my father just up above
I could take a girl from any man
With a twitch of my lips or wave of a hand
So to all you guys out there tonight
Grab your
'm bored-a-leng
I might walk down the road-a-leng
Eat anyone-a-leng, pon dem (?) a-leng
And then duckle
Nine! Manna lick two inna your chest
Put two inna
It's 12.30 AM, Christmas Eve
I'm out with the gangstas and thieves
Celebratin', postin' up with eggnog [head up up] in my cup
[Put Rudolph
on your Dodge
You a rapper, I'm a clapper, put a hundred in your Ford
I got one, two, three, four M's in my bank account
Five, six, seven, eight niggas
Writing bikes til like 3am..
Chillin gettin faded with like all my friends..
I sit and think "will this shit end?"
N**gas smile in your face and it's
up in the pit, I'm Mr. Slaughter
Beat that pussy proper, put that bitch to bed
Then roll the wood, put him in the air
You know what it is, just heard
band got some hands up some hands
All my fans I'm in trouble uh-oh
Down sauf the pollution man go down
Well I make up noise like pots and pans
band got some hands up some hands
All my fans I'm in trouble uh-oh
Down sauf the pollution man go down
Well I make up noise like pots and pans
I flip the steak let it sizzle
Then I wait a lil, flip the schnitzel
Cook it all the way
So there's just a lil pink in the middle
Maldon salt off
quit, stop it
Now came out my wallet, we flyin' down to UA,
Just me and lil freaky, just meant to pull up on all of you
Cuffin' them bitches, I'm droppin'
Couple of months I was down on my dick
So I hit up lil vic told em set up lick
Then I thought bout my kids I cant go back to this
Took a break from
and you know that it shows
Im not player no more
I want you
Put a ring on yah finger
Like boom
Dress up cuz you know
I'm the groom
Skrt off in the lamb like
your hands up
San Juan Puerto Rico I got my man Touch
My nigga Sean Paul big up big up
It's that R (Dot) O, B (Dot) B
In Jamaica we smoke kiki kiki
starved will eat in your face
You ain't moving with no purpose boy you just in the way
I'm a put it on me nigga I ain't gone put it on gang
She gone put
producer of the reggae songs
"Raise your hands, do you swear to tell the right and not the wrongs?" (Yeah)
"On the day of question tell me everything you
you lies
Then you lift your hands high and start reaching for Christ
Let me tell you bout the King of kings who made me clean cause really I done seen
a hoodie with the straps tight
When I put the work in it be quick, don't got a break night
Jump the body off by morning like I'm sugar daylight
Lil' bro
’m enjoying the vibe
So you can put ya hands up like u enjoyin a slide
Be Yaself, don’t be coy in the ride
Cuz me and you can hit a block like it’s a coin
a lot of shrimp
Every day I wake up on that rich nigga shit
And your Lil bitch a thot she succing rich nigga dicc (yeah)
Say she like a nigga wit a Lotta
a lot of shrimp
Every day I wake up on that rich nigga shit
And your Lil bitch a thot she succing rich nigga dicc (yeah)
Say she like a nigga wit a Lotta
shit
We'll do a drive by in a Lyft
Spin a block and then we dip
We bang that blue, no crip
Hold on baby that's that drip
That put my hands on ya hips
Let
'm high, off your brother can't get low
Lil' buddy got popped by a citgo
But fuck him, you know how that shit go
We blowin' big smoke, come through
artillery
I beat the bricks up out your memory
We finna cause major injuries
I finna put you out your misery
Rolling a motherfucking blunt, uh
Jackie Chan,
of laughables
And now its even faster with the broadband
Mp3’s pushed by the board to award stands
A whore’s land, airwaves in an idiot’s ward’s hands
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