Lyrics:
shit down like a motherfuckin' vet
I'm a real nigga doin' real things, and that you can bet...
[Chorus]
[Verse 3: Big Syke]
They say reach in
the goat
To much of blue, bitch I'm icy
Chains on my neck I might choke
Baby (Baby)
Baby
What has been up with you lately? (Damn)
You know my bed feeling
me like her teddy call me roosevelt
Ay
I been on my worst behav-ur
Word to Drake
I'm murder-ang
The birds I slang
The verses sang
Regurgitated
By
each & every mountain
What I'm up to every day
Sipping bar, tipping tities, hitters with me
And we be getting great at my getaway
By the way, all
Man a pupa rambo got di perfect shot
Futuristic ting, a no joke thing
If you're a blue movie boo, haffi link up wid you
Sekkle
Me no want no
Man a pupa rambo got di perfect shot
Futuristic ting, a no joke thing
If you're a blue movie boo, haffi link up wid you
Sekkle
Me no want no
hands up in plastic bags
On stage like a savage goin' mad
What? Yeah yeah, so!
Yeah, by all means you know you gotta put Queens on it
Put cream
On a Greyhound outta Indiana, a one way back to clabama It was comin' down in buckets, when they rolled through Bowling Green The young man wasn't
through
Ima Ip man the sample chop it up like kung fu
You might be a thunderstorm but I'm a fuckin' typhoon
Vampire in the mirror I'm the only me
I know you
Benjamin Harrison after that
It's William McKinley up to bat
Y:Teddy Roosevelt charged up San Juan Hill
W:And President Taft he got the bill
Y:In
They was on the ground
They wouldn't gimme no peace
So I run down most hurriedly
And joined up with the John Birch Society
I got me a secret
They wus on the ground.
They wouldn't gimme no peace...
So I run down most hurriedly
And joined up with the John Birch Society,
I got me a secret
Big Syke, Newt, Hank, Beugard, Big Sir
Y'all know how this shit go
All eyes on me
Motherfuckin' OG
Roll up in the club and shit, is that right?
Big Syke, Newt, Hank, Beugard, Big Sir
Y'all know how this shit go
All eyes on me
Motherfuckin' OG
Roll up in the club and shit, is that right?
spiritual essence
And he goes by the name of, uh
Hood
Check your rhyme, punk that ass or get got, F it (shit)
I lick buckshots, Hood, madman, I rip up
yonder, up in the tree,
There's a rope hangin' just for me.
Without a warnin', without a warnin',
Things are pilin' up to break me down.
Feelin' blue
crash by gang?
House Block 1 had the wing on smash (Khalas)
If I throw you a couple of bits
Would you let my worker stay the night?
Pebble it down with
thought
By the end of the night, you'll be picking up your jaw
Plants, not ten or twenty
Run up in the crop gaff with eggs Benny (agh)
Man's 'ead got
Amanda Shiers and Keith Sykes.
All my country heroes that I can find
I got my old guitar I got my beat up shoes I’m heading downtown to play a little
[Snoop Dogg]
Meet me at the Roosevelt, bass cabana room
I'm on Sunset (where you at?) at The House of Blues
I just stepped in for a quick cameo
Me
up Sykes and cuts like the blade
He can squeeze a dry sponge and make Kool Aid
I drink at steady, the record turns many
Instead of a needle, he uses
They got hit so bad, believe me
They never complained again"
Picture me soundin' like the
World wide mob figure
Whoo-riders this Syke, call me that
like a coward
You'll end up yelling out loud
Hold back
You'll regret it someday
Choke on that
Don't let it pass you by
Hold back
You
miss me
You can bring that bitch but you whole click'll still get treated shitty
Business never personal I'm up before the sun come up I'm tired
Just
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