Lyrics:
pussy pop, I’m in er soda like a Viking
Ima qb dive in it
Thinkin like what would I do withouttt women
I’m too much for these niggas, 3 much for these
The bright moon was shinin', the hour was late
Shot down by Pat Garrett who once was his friend
The young outlaw's life is now come to an end
There's many
his fate,
The bright moon was shining, the hour was late
Shot down by Pat Garrett, who once was his friend
The young outlaw's life had now come
The bright moon was shinin', the hour was late
Shot down by Pat Garrett who once was his friend
The young outlaw's life is now come to an end
There's many
Lotta cats in Huey shirts
But lack Uncle Ruckus
Started in the city but they forgot you
Tony Douglas dropped gems I never tuck it
Compose a quartet
of the Flavor Unit
And we are Naughty By Nature, and we will just do, by terminating you
I can snap, rap, pack, click-clack, patter-pat-pat
Take that ass
lines for the homies
That's R.I.P., you feel me? Aiight let's learn these niggaz sumtin'
We gon' run down the line like this...
[Prodigy]
Before I get
song speak of us
Oh you shot niggas before?
That's cool with me
But you gonna need experience toolin' with P
Before I came to QB i was already thug
on the rise
Leveling up thru these songs
Hold up
Nigga slow up
They talk I'm listening
Niggas think they know so much
Keep sandwich bags
These for my
gon' slide for me
If he my brother I'ma die for him
Ain't got no choice but to ride for me
And I ask the Lord to watch out for him
Like now I lay me
the door
Wildin on the dance floor when they song come on
Swinging they fists
Ready for war but its a different type of effect
Its not violence
They're just
wanna find the place? just follow the sound
The ra-ta-tah of my favorite song
I wanna ride my way to San Fernando slope
My temples tap and my feet
to see the world and squander
Was an all-cure for me health
There’s no quid, no glory
Nor a pat on your back
It’s a short lived story
Told by one of many
more
Blinded by the lights the girls thought I was The Weeknd
No sir
No need for cannons, this shindig don't wild out
Carry your booze well and you will
(Traditional, arranged by Ry Cooder)
(G) - (D)
(G) I'll sing you a true song of (D) Billy the (G) Kid
I'll (D) sing the record of (G) deeds that he
Got nothing to lose I know that Im great
You play by the rules Im snatching the plate
Can wait for that morning after no plan b I was born a rapper
Im
Delores T., Screw her, I never knew her
I'm good, like milk mixed with calugha
Intimidated by the songs I made (why?!)
You soft like suede, I'm sharp
broken chair
Wicked couldn't gone near, have
To be in fear, i would say
(yeah)
For mi say, on my way on to Devon's House
Sight a little girl by di name
Dizzy Gillespie mid solo, only brush my teeth for the album promo
And you can catch me on a flight delayed to FCO,(uh) say you don’t bite until you met me
for the villainous streets
from Willies holdin millions, foreala with no feelin
shit, my resident, Q-B settlement
Hit him on the hill, Jake wonder where
I'm forgiven for my sin
When I pray I'm driven by what I believe in
And even when I have a doubting season (oh, oh, oh)
He still loves me, sets me free,
got to say mom
Wanna be the QB, but she can't go long
Shorty steady wanna rap, but she can't make songs
Told you bitches stop playing
They pussy imma
to see old Ireland once again before I'm gone
My guitar upon my lap, a singin a rebel song
Have a pint in every Irish pub, St Patrick pray for me
Oh I'd
to see old Ireland once again before I'm gone
My guitar upon my lap, a singin a rebel song
Have a pint in every Irish pub, St Patrick pray for me
Oh I'd
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