Lyrics:
Cool, Calm, Collected
Goin' buck wild damn, I got mad styles, 'ooo child'
Things'll get easier meanwhile
I represent the hood where I grew as a kid
Well, there was this movie I seen one time
About a man riding 'cross the desert and it starred Gregory Peck
He was shot down by a hungry kid trying
starin' like you want it
Well, baby, if you got it, better flaunt it
Let the liquor help you get up on it
I'm still tipsy from last night
Bumpin' these
to the grave,
Dear mama keep yo head up I'm tryin ta get paid,
These ghetto tears got me out there wantin to scream,
My auntie 35, but bumpin 17 off a dope fiend,
to the grave,
Dear mama keep yo head up I'm tryin ta get paid,
These ghetto tears got me out there wantin to scream,
My auntie 35, but bumpin 17 off a dope fiend,
your hands up in the air
Then I steer the 600 and
Flex through your hood
I get your money or girl, I take your car
Then I'm good
Call me the rap killer,
a noodle
That likes to doodle
While you play with your kaboodle
Not a poodle
Just a smitten
Kitten
Who hates mittens
For pittance
Where I’m from it stays
get my currency in stacks
California's where I'm at - right?
Passed by while these niggas wonder by
I got shot but didn't die
Let 'em see who's next
could get undressed quicker
Isn't it ironic how erotic it is to watch her in thongs?
Had me thinkin' 'bout that ass after I'm gone
I touch the right
could get undressed quicker
Isn't it ironic how erotic it is to watch her in thongs?
Had me thinkin' 'bout that ass after I'm gone
I touch the right
know times will get hard
I'll pick up your life just abide by the lord
Or ride by the lord
Abide by the lord
Abide by the lord
You bout to get it from
she wanna do
I get the strips deposit two I pay it when the homage due
I been just in my plans like where I’m plottin’ to
Goin’ rogue
I’m just goin
easily influenced by the niggas I'm around
See that Aston Martin when I start it hear the sound
I ain't never graduated ain't got no cap and gown
But
combat
Momma said
I still got that glo
I Thought I lost that
Niggas call my phone
I don't pull up for
No weak shit
Bitch I'm sellin dope
That'll get yo
How should I begin, to sin?
Grab the microphone and my rhymes'll win
Wheel of Fortune, spin, around
Check it out, I'm not a rap clown
Get smacked
my song
Brain damage
Way before my baby daughter Hailey
I was harassed daily by this fat kid named D'Angelo Bailey
An eighth grader who acted
me I'm crazy
Lately faintly drinking Bailey thinkin bout her on a daily
Does she like me, will she play me, will she feel me, will she date me
Will she
I'm rippin' up somethin' lovely
What is it in ya? deep in the dead when we get fried
POD when I comes to ride
Creep but you sleep and then fall in
a fighter
To get the meal rarely barely shared by
A brother of color, but I'm not scared, I
Don't want to stop, to the top it's a rat race
Or should I say
Got it all off the muscle
Digged up, where's the shovel?
Can I get seven Hallelujah's (yeah), God good, this ain't luck though
I maneuver
I'm
(What's happenin' Chi Chi?)
(Yeah, yeah) yeah
Got this shit up out the mud
Still grindin' like I'm tryna get my weight up (get my weight up)
' on a trip
I said we're goin' on a trip
I don't know where we're headed
But we're goin' on a trip
We're goin' on a road trip
Get blowed with no drip
Notice
employ
I shoot 12 rounds, now Jr. Jones Roy
Y'all so backwards, I don't do Backwoods, I'm a swisher man
8 in the mornin' you bouta get found by
on niggaz you flipped the wrong page
Ya'll niggaz can't touch me like strippers on stage
Catch me in the 2 seater the heater where I hold reefer
I'm try'na
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