Lyrics:
And niggas don't be tripping, don't
Be doin no drive-bys
Cause we don't gangbang, don't wear blue or red
We like that fucking green and paper's what I said
Big
I'm from the O-A-K-C-L-I-F-F With my niggas are by myself, don't bite my tongue
Don't hold my breath
I'm throwing up my hood to the day that I die
It's the battle of the builders!
Bricks v blocks!
In the red corner, everybody's
Favorite precision-molded master builder
the Lego Man! And in
Arranged and adapted by Arlo Guthrie
So you ask me my kind friend
Why I am sad and still
And why my brow is darkened
Like the clouds upon the hill
Wake up, break the brick up
Start tongue twistin' on ya sister
Wassup with you kiss ups
Thinkin you should cut your wrists up
Bout to face off like
Hotels, late nights, hands through my hair
Long talks, red eyes, clothes everywhere
Missin' a moment when you're still there
You got a thing you
Gimme that alpine wine
Flowing ponderosa red
Up with the bighorns
Just below the eagles
Living by my terms
Wild, free and peaceful
So high up I'm betting
a million rows
of them little red poles and it's signs up and down the line
Come on come on one more time
Yonder goes Willie he's passin' on a hill
He
a million rows
Of them little red poles and it's signs up and down the line
Come on come on one more time
Yonder goes willie he's passin' on a hill
He
cause it
Goes by
Goes by
Oh my
Oh my
Red Light
Red light green light
'round the city like to
Get high
Off sativa
Handle business with all, my guys
All my
the Red Sea parted
Provide the harvest, in drought and shortage
With Jah by my side I've got all advantage
(Here, here I come again)
Gong,
that's close to me
I want a house, that's up on a hill
Swanging that wood, shinning gold grill
You say that you're sure, and I get the chills
Grab on your
Then I called up Yauna She fucking shit
Yea I’m in the hills now I’m out this bitch
Really in the field now We poppin shit
Yea I’m moving midtown That
you wit me then let them keys blow (keys blow)
[Fred] Don't be afraid. Don't be afraid
Throw 'em up and let ya nuts hang low now..
I keeps it gangsta
Steve Nash
Red Lambo like the flash (Skrt)
I ain't got a Lamb, but I'm workin' (Nah)
In a couple years, I'll be swervin' (Yuh)
My mama rich, sippin'
dollars jus to leave me lone,
Tell the waitress bring mo bottles up cus she can keep the chaser,
Lil mama switchin' by my section she want me to chase
little sunshine
And too much shade, I may
Aspire for a messiah
Higher up on the hill, I lay
Border on the edge of artist and jester
Still carrying
Carnage,
AT DAWN
FOR THE VERY LAST TIME
MAJOR, WE OBEYED YOU
WE CLIMBED TO THE TOP OF THE HILL
THAT SMALL RIVER ONCE BLUE
TURNED TO RED A VICTORY'S TOLL
WE WAIT
booty, red type
Where them bad bitches who always ask you what your bread like?
We don't even trip, we just ask 'em what their head like
Pour up, we gone
This on the gang, we did them dirt for real, And when we slide, we'll leave more stains
Up on they shirts like meals
No competition, they rely on all
handy for the hills,
that's the way you spell New Mills,
brooding along by the runnel,
while shes in Capri with her swain,
and the light at the end
the red has a crane by his bed
To wrench himself up in the morn'
But if you dare to tread at the foot of his bed
You'll wish you'd never been born
the red has a crane by his bed
To wrench himself up in the morn'
But if you dare to tread at the foot of his bed
You'll wish you'd never been born
A man opened his window and stared up Primrose Hill
Out there enjoying themselves I've seen them from this sill
Green splashed with white and red
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