Lyrics:
this heat they be knockin’
The people stay rockin’, they know I be poppin’
I do my best to abide by the law
If you get outta whack imma come break ya jaw
up on Leonard street
I'm tranna be the best that I can be
Pop a bottle for Zae, long live in peace
So many niggas hating on my downfall I can see
that's fasho
I can't stop or waste my time for small convo I gotta go
Yes I'm UkWN to the world but by the end my name they'll know
N O $ be running shit I
featuring Nas
[Nas]
Spit at the world
My lyrics I could spit at your girl
Spit when I hurl spit on the Dutch and finish
golden hooks for the Queen
Broken bottles, wasted time,
You can find on the moon so high
On winged beasts I ride to the reign of the moon
To find what
a Queen
My future son ain’t gone ever hear that his mom got fucked by the whole team
He gone know she a winner
She a go getter who never been a fien
He gone
You like how I rave
She riding my wave
Baby she move like a slave
Baby I gotta get paid
Look like a model
Look like a model
That baby, bottle
That baby,
queen by your side
A mansion, yacht, Mercedes to ride
A genie who can always provide
You think I’ll make you rich? You wish!
You set me free, you think
Would you mind if I kiss you now
Take you home and I take you down
Get my head in between your legs. Sooky sooky now
You a queen, you deserve a crown
Girl
break glass
They fucked Rodney King up and now it's they ass
So it's bottle rockets through the window
Kids that was never smoking endo
Fiends kicking
his men all were knighted
He yelled aloud for all the world
"I'll take her for my queen!"
And the man screamed "Please
Don't take my child! I beg you
Young queen you don't need a rich jigga
And you don't need any dr
To make your ass any bigger
Little booties matter too
Please don't alter your
Words by Rebecca St. James & Bill Deaton
Music by Blair Masters
You can have the money, wheel it, deel it, win it all
You can have a lot of fashion,
the world
The only thing missing is a miss's by your side
Baby aren't you rolling with me (I said)
Want it you can get it, boy just tell me what you
ball, kay, broad, g'day!,
Now G'd afternoon, subhuman self, caught a splash of moon, got stupid felt
By the moon light, oh my passive wounds
They thrash
a pelican that nods his head
While looking around at this world, I'm not impressed
Uninterested, too much drama that spreads like infected mamas
Do you love
She's the bottle rocket princess, QUeen of La Motor Inn,
with a sparkler in her teeth and a flashlight to her chin.
With a lady finger cap gun and she put
the sack, I got you in the sack
And like Helen tellin Jack, there's no turnin back
She's the queen of the ghetto, ask my buddy Tom
Mary Jane is
Whodini, launchin' rockets in the 90s!
Now I remember in the days of way back
With just a 4 track
With no SP-12 to make tracks
Wearing leather
a desk job
Making music for the culture and the world on the laptop
I'm goin' full throttle on the bottle, trying to forget these past memories
I overcame
more at peace
Shuffled the masts of the Queen's fleet meet and greet
Strung some green beans up by their yellow jackets
Now they nourishing the bees
Get catastrophic
Been a minute since I had a topic
They wonder why they hands burning trying to grab a rocket
I'm takin' off like yesterday lemme
Drop the rocket boosters and I'm shiftin' into high gear
Bowie on the system and a bottle on my knee
Armstrong ain't got nothing on me
Hey ho, here
Street sweeper, knock his head clean off his body
Then keep sweeping long enough to clean off his body
Lean off the bottle then fly a nigga queen off
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