Lyrics:
Yeah it's Saca
What up Zero
This the remix! (Saca on the beat)
I see you comin' to the club
And you brought your friend around
And your girl wanna
that bitch, and it ain't no asking why they all on my tip
'Cause I get them Benjamins and Jacksons and they all in my grip
Tell me who you know could
watching Boo-Betta
Swig up on a forty 'cause I'm feeling thirsty
Mama says she taught me, better so she cursed me
Throwing on my hoodie, low-profiling
to the President
Shit is still fucked up y'all
And y'all wonder when it's gon' get better
And it ain't gon' get better
Dear Mr. President, tell me what to do
single sounds like the double dutch bust remix
Watch you collapse and die like you was River Phoenix
Me and rap go way back like LL's hairline
Nigga fuck
know me from that block where we move them rocks)
(You better make it fast, watch your ass, or get pursued by cops)
You don't know what its like up
know me from that block where we move them rocks)
(You better make it fast, watch your ass, or get pursued by cops)
You don't know what its like up
throwing P's
While you stand with me
P-Town, charged up like batteries
Mo fuckers is So down
It's an understatement to gravity
Pour two shots for loss
throwing P's
While you stand with me
P-Town, charged up like batteries
Mo fuckers is So down
It's an understatement to gravity
Pour two shots for loss
throwing P's
While you stand with me
P-Town, charged up like batteries
Mo fuckers is So down
It's an understatement to gravity
Pour two shots for loss
on top of paper
Its lookin’ like a notebook
I got the money stacks
Came back with another track
Remix with the running mate
You know we had to run it back
a section/
she pour me a drink/
Now I’m feeling good/
We roll up a blunt/
Like Im in the hood/
What up Lou/
What it Do/
What it is/
Boom boom/
I walk in
WE CRIED IN PAIN
NOW YOU'RE SO ALONE LIKE A FLY IN THE RAIN
SO TIRED OUT. WHAT'S UP MR.JONES?
SO TRY IT OUT. WHAT'S UP MR.JONES?
SO TRY IT NOW. WHAT'S
She can win an Oscar, for me her feeling fades when her ex-friend popped up. But the worst day was my birthday when she said she was knocked-up, I felt
letter, to the President
Shit is still fucked up y'all
And y'all wonder when it's gon' get better
And it ain't gon' get better
Dear Mr. President, tell me
Get wit me now come on special delivery
(Well give it to me)
Bad Boy baby special delivery
Aye yo hold up a second this is the remix
So let's
cash grow (Let's get it)
Boy Wonder, got the game tied by a lasso, let's go (Whoa, whoa)
Mr. Rosenberg
Call me Mr. Rosenberg
It ain't Jason Rose no more
you understand then you throwing P's
While you stand with me
P-Town, charged up like batteries
Mo fuckers is So down
It's an understatement to gravity
Up in this remix
Up in this remix
Today it’s all about cash and cheques empowering blacks
Having sex with ten chicks all feeling celebrity dicks
Up in this remix
Up in this remix
Today it’s all about cash and cheques empowering blacks
And having sex with ten chicks
All feeling celebrity dicks
sareen
Mr. Get It On Jones I noticed I didn't drop the phone
If it's on then it's on mister stay loaded up the zone
I stay rollin' on some chrome Mr. Bad
me, Yung Flame we murder some,
We up in blaze, no stopping us,,
Now that it's a remix, we spazzing more
It's more bars, more flows mixed with sanity
And I'm running up the paint
Keep telling me there's no way
No, I don't want you to stay
I can tell that you're fake
With my gang, I pull up, let it bang
no more
I give you everything, you turn around and ask me for more
Make me sacrifice the things I adore
I'm done playing this game it's time to fight
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