Lyrics:
Goodwill loves me Macklemore than you
I've got flat screen TVs, with skate videos on repeat
All the latest CDs, mp3s, and Beats by Dre
Thank you very
the fifth couldn't make it.
The number's even - now I'm leavin'.
We're never gettin' took by a bitch with a weave in.
Her and the troops are right behind me
much money I got racks on racks on racks on racks on racks
Bitch so much money my shit stacks on stacks on stacks on stacks on stacks
You see me
till
They callin' me ghost
Guess who just stepped in the place
N-to-the-E-to-the-R-V-E
Get respect whenever I put pencil to page
Won't rest for a day
the suds
And the tears they're pourin' down on me
Send me out to sea and take me to a place where the whiskey's a little more sour
I guess happy hour
And here we are just falling apart
You catch me
I am tired
I want all that you are
And I saw from the cathedral
You were leaving me
And I saw from
you?
We haven't spotted them yet
But they're somewhere in the immediate vicinity
A 100 miles and runnin
Mc Ren, I hold the gun and
You want me
they're laughin' at
They say, "Cheesy rat, you ain't all that."
[Chorus]
So yo, one more time, one more time
Party people in the house tonight
to roll
I got the strap by the seam of my clothes
Show a lil nigga this cutta on me not even his beef but his mans get expose
Putting down pressure you
right
I'm black, blacker than a trillion midnights
"Don't Believe The Hype" was said in '88 by the great Chuck D
Now they're tryin' to fuck me
couldn't make it.
The number's even, now I'm leavin'.
We're never gettin' took by a bitch with a weave in.
Her and the troops are right behind me.
But
diamonds round my neck and all them haters know what up and I'm on 1 yea I'm sipping Who want some and you can catch me v.i.p when I'm chilling with
when the game was real shady
Never leave my house without my deuce five, that's my lady
She been with me a long time, 'bout—380
And I got that
'n roll
I never gave a damn, my juice gonna slam
I'm at I.H.o.p. Eatin some breakfast and some yams
My partna Scott chillin at the mutha fuckin crib
the money I'm in it for the P (or is it D)
It's 1998 yo and you still can't fuck with me
You don't be fuckin' with the blue eye
Fuckin' with my 2-5 up your
Now gimme gimme gimme that groupie love
When you see me in V.I.P with hoes around me
Man now give me that groupie love
Come gimme gimme gimme that
turn twenty
Two years left to keep the P steady
But you know what the white boy's like
I'll spend it tonight and
Be coming home messy
Get me? Nah you
juggin and stacking
I hit up the booth Mac pattern the beat
I’m really chasing the p’s
Pull me a seat
Talking about making that gwolla
You're speaking my
can't even look me in my eye, let alone go toe to toe
And callin' me skinny, youse a clown
I'ma call you Theo, 'cause you weigh ninety-two point three
on the lose
tell your governor in service to prepare another noose
try to catch me if you can tell me what you want to do
They're runnin after me 'cause I
told you not to call me here!
This better be some good shit
Yeah, yeah, yeah, I got a big one, it's going down tonight
But it's gonna cost you two
white
I might just break em off, when I come dripped out right
Im talkin shoes by Hirachi, shirts by Versace
Hoes they gone watch me, but they all wanna
Daz we about to fry niggas like fries
And separate them by five's and light up the skies
Crip that D P, Kurupt
Dippin' and I'm out, put a dick in
I don't know who to trust no more
Let it go
It'll take me to war
That's those voices in my head
Its got me over seeing red
See I don't wanna cross
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