Lyrics:
a compliment
I'd rather do a 5 to 10
Nigga fore I lose my life
Go out in a blaze of glory
Squezing with my trigga tight
Young loke, and gun smoke, and done choke
five cents
It's seven, eight or nine, seventh time a month supply that
By fifty thousand, no more browsin', bitch I'm buyin' that
I'm ridin' 'Llac
efforts are negated by the passive observers.
*
They spend days before the T.V. set so burned out,
Is it any wonder they've lost all sense of vision
5, 4, 5, 4, 3, 2 penguins of the world unite
Strength in numbers, we can get it right
One time!
(We are a part of the rhythm nation)
With Music by
And then I thought about it, we are not "we"
Am I in the outside looking in, or am I in the inside looking out?
Is it my place to give my two cents
(Dolla $ign) She drive five hours for a nigga just to get some long dick
No flowers from her nigga out in Luxembourg
She came to Paris for a nigga
plays Christmas songs while we get high
And Davey shouts, ?Merry Christmas y'all?
To the cars passing by
Davey shouts, ?Merry Christmas y'all?
To the cars
out to my man Frank
Shout out to Hype864
Shout out to Hyped Experience
Shout out to Experiences by Hype
187.5 on your FM dial
This is DJ Scotty Rock
Costumes! Silly fun!
We’re going one-by-one!
Verse 1
We are going to find out
Who hides behind the desk
With a spooky... “Boo!” (shout)
…. JJ!
Let’s find
deserve
Everybody knows the earliest bird gets the worm
So i wake up, 5 a.m. just to put in work
Shouts out to the mothafuckas' doubting me
Swear to god
to God dat we workin shout out to Ru
Woo I just seen a panoramic roof
'Raris porches Benz McClarens
Big booty hoes they starin
All this black wealth Whoa
ones used by Skateboard P
Wearing shades from Louis V
They are not mine, they are owned by Smeed
Want Ice Cream, no Mane Gucci
Shout out to my twin, he
don't even ask me
Born to grind opportunity doesn't pass me
Shout out to the haters better stay up in your lane
None of these rappers now are getting past
you
Mean? She shouts it out all of the time"
Y'all don't want me to rep
Y'all y'all don't hear when
I rep y'all cause y'all
Be dick-riding everybody
they threw on my name
Turned to soil and I grew up out it
Time for y'all to figure out what y'all gon' do about it
Big wheels keep rollin', rollin'
Seven O'Clock in the evening
Watchin' somethin' stupid on TV
I'm zoned out on the sofa
When my wife comes in the room and sees me
And she says "is
This one takes me back
To the UT days at the Crossing Place
Shout out the Triple Five man
Lots of memories
On tracks my mind bubbles call it
I hold my cup up, I let my top down
And everywhere I look they pourin' up now
Say shout out to them Texas niggas, Texas niggas
I do this shit for
got, just like that.
This ain't no joke motherfuckers.
Now I want to send a shout-out to E-Dog, the engineer,
Puttin his two cents in..
"This is
Shouts to the gang
Shouts out to my old hoes
See i usely be with a gang of niggaz
But today ima do it by myself
I count it all by myself
I can hit
to give me a thing
Could've been a fifty cent ring from out of a vending machine
Love unconditionally, there's no other fish in the sea
Guess I'm
on my name
Turned to soil and I grew up out it
Time for y'all to figure out what y'all gon' do about it
Big wheels keep rollin', rollin'
I'm
down
I'm holding you down
[Parrish Smith]
You got shit harder than this, Erick Serm' and Parrish Smith?
What's this? Piped out five, with the kit?
me to do?
We get a blunt and a joint out of [?]
Where I'm from we be actually hoopin' in Jordans
Five dollar white t-shirts and them loose cigarettes
.jpg/269px-Sister_Rosetta_Tharpe_(1938_publicity_photo_-_headshot).jpg "Shout Sister Shout")
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