Lyrics:
he really picked to see
The vict’ or is he really dead for
What he did? Let the machete
Rip, spaghetti drip ready, get set, ready
Go, ready to rock
dreams and all they mean
Including heavens generosity.
Peeping round the door
to see what parcels are for free
In curiosity.
And Tommy doesn't know
Ay yo, this shit be off the knock it rock
Whatever cock block it
Cat get blown, who own this
Street corner
Foreigner hesitate to rock a Hummer
The Thompson Submachine Gun or the Tommy Gun as it's called
Uh
It's an automatic weapon, capable of delivering a high rate of fire
Uh
Let's see how
Young nigga play wit dat rock but im not from Marcy
Big ol draco it cant fit in the glove compartment
Im on the stove who the fuck got the oven started
In
can a little boy endure
Being beat with all type of slurs
Getting touched by those who meant the world
Getting taught to hate his skin n curls
Fuck
can't even notice me
Ima sell it all fore I go to sleep, I ain't never free
Rock out by my lonely, no codefee
I got Lotus Speed
Leather fleece on me in
by FCJ
So bear witness, the mental fitness
Who can get with this, new jack apprentice
So I’m about to set it
With the ultra magnetic
Funk to be
bye, bye, bye
I'm a big girl, so I won't cry
Don't sing me a lullaby-by-by
Don't rock me to sleep
Skip to the part that you really mean, yeah
Through Rough
We Number One Ain't Nothin' You Can Do
And If You Wanna Get Down We'll Rock You Too
So Free-Formin Y'all, Ya Don't Stop
Come On, Come
[Chorus: *Scratching*]
Pain In Da Ass "Fuck You" 3x
Styles "I don't give a fuck" 3x
Styles "I don't give a fuck who you are"
Pain In The Ass " Fuck
you feel the fire rising
come and smoke a joint with me
its a prophesy
a punk-rock-oprahcy
and all shots are free
when shorty rocks with me
c'mon,
the sky.
I'm the carry-out kid when my trigger's in cock.
I'll be carryin' out bodies stiff as a rock.
Carryin' out a million dollars in my pockets
on his face like the Oscars
Tommy's tough cookies now who's the real monster
Built Ford tough like a truck no Tonka
Look it's just me independent no
of a master
You never thought you'd be bodied by a bastard
A bachelor who backspin on breakbeats
Break necks of broke souls who hate me
Hate he? you can't
could really place a free order homie
Get your ass touched too
Show you real horrors
Fuck your peace offers
Who'da thought that you'd ever get scorched by
in the minds of
These slaves until they free boy
Mischievous souls
Who don't get it so we spit it
Where that smoke is blowing loud and
All these crowds
the bando young commando going rambo
Fidel Castro with a afro that's facto
All black with a knapsack finna hijack that tarmac
Raised by gorillas in them
(Lil Veza)
Tommy shirt
Tommy belt
I don't care, how you felt
Imma witch, yeah, gonna do a spell
I sold my soul, you know I'm goin' to Hell
Wait, no I
the sky.
I'm the carry-out kid when my trigger's in cock.
I'll be carryin' out bodies stiff as a rock.
Carryin' out a million dollars in my pockets
Rock
Rock
Rock rock wit it
Dead soldier on the floor
Grab the top spin it
Bop
Bop
Bop bop wit it
Treat a bitch like a stock
Hit the top flip it
Rock
with people who gon' rock with me
Can't give you my time cause my time ain't free
You can go and watch the repeat, they be watching my stories like it's
Who angry as hell, we yell from the beast
Wise killers up in New York, who lay for peace
Crime action get you trapped by the chief, no PC
Proud
awareness month itself a part of Plastic free july
UV safety awareness month
I guess that's a campaign for proper care and storage of black lights and by
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