Lyrics:
Of the pillow pack
Shorty
Throw it back
For me
We about to mash on the gas
No brakes
Break a sweat
No breaks
Shorty work your knees
You deserve the award
Let have
Aren't y'all always truckin'
Aren't y'all always truckin'
Is that dog food
What up, doggy? Lock it up
This is a place built by my doggy
Sheesh, two
get up off ya
Come on baby, closer
Get up on this coaster
And ride it out, ride it out
Until my theme park closes
Grind it out, grind it out
Until
the whole park - it was 10
15 minutes until we got out
She really hasn't changed she really don't
Act like, "I'm this person" or
"I'm that person" She just
Break it down, roll it up
Head in clouds, goin' up
Break it down, roll it up
Wake the fuck
Wake the fuck
Break it down, roll it up
Head in clouds,
his church ain't right
Deacon is a pimp, tell by his eyes
Mrs. Parks said, "Brother Starks, meet you at the numbers spot
Heard you got red tops out,
his church ain't right
Deacon is a pimp, tell by his eyes
Mrs. Parks said, "Brother Starks, meet you at the numbers spot
Heard you got red tops out,
and get hated by friends
And i'm tired of making amends
If you out of my life
Then you banned
Didn't matter at all in the end
Linkin Park flow
Chester
about to bust your bubble like a tree lord
Too much marijuana got me p-noid
I'm killing instrumentals with that All So Simple Can It Be, boy
Shout to Lil
pollinated by the "Be"
Pac called it the rose that rose from concrete
How do you define divine that finds street?
"Hip bop," the color of my leaves
Not
It's knocked out the fucking park when the dude bats
If you need that lava, look no further for a new batch
I'm back on my rowdy shit, can feel the rage
like
“Yeah you really did it, oh my God!”
Back up in the lab again working on my legacy
A dog on the instrumental, come & check my Pedigree
Build more
about to bust your bubble like a tree lord
Too much marijuana got me p-noid
I'm killing instrumentals with that All So Simple Can It Be, boy
Shout to Lil
Rev. ain't right, his church ain't right
Deacon is a pimp, tell by his eyes
Mrs. Parks said, "Brother Starks, meet you at the numbers spot
Heard you got
for my village, yeah
I do it for my pe (Aye, yes, sir)
And the blood drippin' by the gallons (Grr)
Dolo in the whip, I solo any clique
It's not
[Rakim]
One two
Yeah, yeah,
"Rough enough to break New York from Long Island"
Yeah it's the God baby,
Long Island's own,
Barbarian
the S to the T to the E to the double U
and when I got the microphone I woulda trouble you
My instincts starts linkin like park
you know I m comin tru runnin' tru very
and will never beat him
It feel like all my life I been needing a break
Looking at my family, I ain't wanna make the same mistake
And I know that shit
goin' take over this shit is no doubt (Doubt)
Then they goin' do what we allow (Allow)
Niggas want smoke until they see the cloud (Cloud)
Think it's
to the tock
Time is up when you post
Read by the one it was meant to be read by
Don't need it, too late, 'bout to cost you the most
You don't really wanna see
A nigga ready from the get go (blowe, blowe, blowe)
Y'all hear my shit go, it's Andre, can yo punk ass come out to play?
Stay in your little hole,
shit live to ya peephole
Shorty wanna ride wit' a G though
And we never break the G code
Crack another bottle of the pinot
Hit it out the park Great
partner
So I gave him my tape
Said he'd play it for him
Hoping that I'd get my big break
But never got a response anyway
This nigga named Pop Gates came
Clowns are flying in the park people are dying in my heart
Go be a hero, save the day but how do I do it what do I say
Step by step part by part what
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