Lyrics:
wilzzo-izzo-zee
Yo, straight up Missy killed that shit tonight for real
Ooh, I know, I know
I don't really care about her being pregnant by Michael Jackson
and four chords repeated
Completed by a relatable lyrical concept about an ex or something
This isn't for the masses
It's for the
musically analytical
So
nursery rhyming
I thought a message
Was the first requirement
These new wave
Verses deserve retirement
Alan Sugarae the way
I've got an urge to fire em
You're welcome
To step on by
One day, one day, one day, one day,
I might be the one to make you cry
Ha, Yeah
I'm sittin on swole
Dre and King Tee
on, I've done this thing since Shaq at Saxon
And I'm still a fan of Michael Jackson, but now I want to see numbers in action,
I wanna see numbers in
my name to seraphim
And hold on tight with a careful grip
Another night all on my own
On the pink moon with a graceful tone
The sound of you reverbs
action
By seeing it as a challenge, you
Will have converted this negative
Into a positive
Purely by a mental process that will
Result in positive action
Talking:
what's that big baby?
You know what's sound dog
They gon' like this here, ya heard me?
They go like, you know what I'm sayin'?
Fuck 'em
my body"
Alan Watts
His last words
If we too can separate our lives
Our consciousness
Our being
Our "selves"
From our body
And live not defined by
in the mood, just go with the flow
And I can play rapping records and all disco
Like "Beat It," "Billie Jean," by Michael Jackson
Or the Treacherous
In 1814 we took a little trip
Along with Colonel Jackson down the mighty Mississip'
We took a little bacon and we took a little beans
And we
In 1814 we took a little trip
Along with Colonel Jackson down the mighty Mississip'
We took a little bacon and we took a little beans
And we
a fuck (yeah, yeah)
Oh, we sound like Em clones, huh?
Where the fuck you think he started at holmes, huh?
Skip the small talk, talking is a risk you
to the sound of the gun shots
Hustled by the bus stop, aged to the front stop
Block party departed, somebody got bodied
Right before I snatch this little number
a sedative
And all that shit you saying ho it all sounds so repetitive
"we going backstage and we getting VIP"
Better get yourself a ticket bitch, you going
necklace
Bitches that we came with got all of your bitches jealous
'Bout to leave the crib with a couple of my pirates
Driving by the streets we used
raised by the block and new to the sound of the gun shots
Hustled by the bus stop, aged to the front stop
Block party departed, somebody got bodied
make a sound
I found a way to let you win
But I never really had a doubt
Standing in the light of your halo
I got my angel now
It's like I've
Okay now the boy be blacking (Blacking out, blacking out)
Thriller dancing Michael Jackson (Jackson!)
I'm the mainest side attraction (Traction!)
No more
I put it down like this for you
Remember Whitley avenue
And everybody who I love back where Im from know this the sound
If you wasnt back on Harlan
don't know what direction it's gonna go in
Or at what speed it's gonna go in
This project was like, all over the place
If you listen to Cruisin' By
When I was a kid Uncle Remus he put me to bed
With a picture of Stonewall Jackson above my head
Then daddy came in to kiss his little man
With
When I was a kid Uncle Remus he put me to bed
With a picture of Stonewall Jackson above my head
Then daddy came in to kiss his little man
With gin
ass was Amazonian
Dab by the slab, got you feeling like it's opium
Xo, bad hoes they call me Diablo Esco
Unless it's money me no hablo
Still wish I
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