Lyrics:
that describe my aura
G Rap, Ras Kass, Kurupt
Redman I am cut from that cloth
Write a rhyme about me, you a dead man
Cool J, I'm Bad video
Learned
soundin' the same
From the beats to the videos
Clothes and look
Same concept for your flows and hook
See these round here they can raise the dead
So
to me
It's no games and fun
Schlepping toys round the world out of sight of the sun
This old bag weighs a ton
But soon my overnight ride will be done
My
That's right, on the seventh
That's right, on the seventh
Seven, seven, seven
The following program has been brought
To you by Rhymesayers Entertainment
That she won tickets to see
The Chili Peppers play
On Ellis Island
And it was for the release
Of their new album
By the Way
And she won the tickets
By
prison
Got you fucked up on what's allowed
Seeing all them motherfuckers
Walking round
Weekly message tell you motherfuckers
Living loud
20 years home
can't lose (yaya)
I went to the store I ran out of my Cheerios
I been tryna shoot a video
I been puttin' in the work in the studio
Willville Studios I'm
Your stressed (Stressed)
See me with the red and blue Gucci stripe across my chest
Call me blessed, this ain't bless (Naa)
Tryna make it from round
Apart
How You Take Such A Painful And Awful Turn
I'm A Good Ole Boy , From The Backwoods
I'm A Let Your Heart Burn
You Took ME By The Hand, Even though
Verse 1:
I grew up on Curtis Road
Where rusty trucks and sunflowers grow
Played outside even when it rained
Never needed no video gamesNawh
Spent
Showbiz-ness
Whatever, take it the way it should be taken
Faking backs breaking, but makes no mistake
[Chorus]
[Cee-Low]
Round up, round up, round up,
from through de Brock
Wait.. Which one you talking bout
Man, de one dat live by that house dea man... De man now fuck round de men down Rockly
Mean that
blessed
I am being caressed by a lioness
And we in Maldives, im getting topped off
Reminiscing on days of getting dropped off
Having flashbacks of eating
down, and busting out the mop
And she like how I pop out, I walk 'round like the mob
And she like how I rock out, she call me "Joe Ramone"
I do not fuck
I like big butts and I cannot lie
You other brothers can't deny
When a girl walks in with an itty-bitty waist
And a round thing in your face you
Sad as a story, my rainy day girl
Sat on her hands in a sugar-free world
Mimed in a million video games
Bad to the bone like the garbage she's
released by David East (what up East?)
Verses hit hard, never pitched hard or played the streets
These niggas' whips hard, behind closed doors, can't pay
so my soul
is a threat to all mankind. Born to kill, I'm wicked by nature, 'cause the streets of my neighborhood breed young hellraisers. A
30.06
And a round thing in your face
You get sprung
Wanna pull up tough
You notice that butt was stuffed
Deep in the jeans she's wearing
I'm hooked and I can't stop
They only talk to her, because,
She looks like a total prostitute, 'kay?
I mean, her butt, is just so big
I can't believe it's just so round, it's
and you said you was with it, so
I can peep by the convo, you not no silly hoe
Yeah, I own all the cars you seen in the video
Do you know you lookin'
and then Mary go, round
I just ride, hold her down with the fifth by my side
Me and Miss Blige
Look up in the sky it's a bird and the 'caine
Abuse microphones let my flow run loose
Calling out all troops puttin' weight up on the table
Bring a scale round by round check the SoundScan
Damn D-Loc
game
Still fuckin' the street with Kutt and Kali, baby ain't nothin change (STRANGE!)
A drive for no paper work, organize drive-by's and your neighbor
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