Lyrics:
a star too
I got my gang by the west I see
I got the thing and the piece on me
I know they know about me I'm a young OG
012 le magang I'll be
And they
[Chorus:] They say we N -- I - Double G -- E -- R
We - are - much more, Still we choose to ignore, The obvious.
Man this history don't acknowledge us
Benz
You know me I like it wet, rode slowly
By the way baby, how old is you codie
You lookin' a little young to me
And how many you had that girl on,
Oh, me and my cousin, one Arthur McBride
As we went a-walkin' down by the seaside
Now mark what followed and what did betide
For it bein'
of responding to her
Guess sometimes it's lyric before text, Q
The studio over sex, a clean mix over drinks
A final touch over resting
Distracted by
it is, yeah, these niggas fake
No, we can't relate
Yamborghini-high, Lambo by the crib
This is how it is, this is how we live
Bitches, bitches,
and let your mind be free
And by the way welcome to the party
Uh uh excuse me Mr. Kid Rock (what's up?) can I do my thing
Uh, can I have a little something
mind be free
And by the way, welcome to the party
Uh uh excuse me Mr kid Rock
Can I do my thing?
Can I have a little something
To say right here? (Oh
Heard a conversation with my father
Talking to his favorite partner
At the domino table
Tony had told him that he saw a
Young nigga hopping out
it out
The paparazzi flashes, and that they think that it's you
But they don't know that who you are is not what you do
True, we get it twisted when
vision is red, the eyes are as well
We can't pay attention, we got to pay bills
It doesn't make sense if
It's not making mills
We do not take pictures,
Short that's so fake because I rap so long
Other rappers hear pop I put funk in this song
Young tender on the floor wiggle it all
Homeboy keeps telling
gettin' shot by the bullets of my enemies
Rest in peace, to all my fallen homies
Young souljas turned victim at the full moon
I still shiver when I glance
a little of a twist? in and out here comes the .9
Cause it's puttin' in work time
And gon' see a fuckin' catch you punk Slob slippin'
I'm a B.G.
So I'm
on more than a nic' (yeah, bitch)
My Brooklyn bitch in the Garden, while we watchin' the Knicks (yeah-yeah)
Walk your bitch like a pit', dogshit by my hip
to the project
Professional fresh fusion sweet like a bowl fruit
Since the age of a little man
Like the first time a young girl gets a hula hoop
Older now big time
the press
I will shake this mess, of a world, we have today it’s blessed
But no one knows it yet
Blessed by me, you resting in peace
I could be the Best Buy
to the kitchen
I'm vividly livid
Over your decisions
And all the little bitches
Now gimme a minute
Devilish Young Gods that's DYG
Devilish Young Gods never
and I are waitin' on
You, so baby if you want a
Midnight margarita
We can mix a little love in with the lime
We both speak tequila
And baby what it's
got no bullets
Yeah yeah yeah yeah
Top two for five, three for five, we rollin!
[Fat Joe]
Now I'm in too deep
Only sixteen already hold a name
Don't involve my name with no mix-up
Pole on my waist, got my 'ting tucked
Have your mum putting flower by
Your grave while pouring
That liquor like she
to the heat
I'm not descreet when it comes to the dogg
I'm a real O like eight-ball
We see now us by the gang-banging
Crack-slanging, entertain us
Sipping
back
Mama, they said I killed a man
Well, I guess I got the dagger back
It's the Roc bastards, we are back
In the heezy
Jigga Man, B Siegs
back
Mama, they said I killed a man
Well, I guess I got the dagger back
It's the Roc bastards, we are back
In the heezy
Jigga Man, B Siegs
_2.jpg/300px-Little_Mix_at_the_Confetti_Tour_in_Leeds_(cropped)_2.jpg "Little Mix")
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