Lyrics:
We got the real live shit from front to back (ayo, can y'all hear me out there?)
To my niggas in the world, where the fuck you at? (Ayo, turn me up,
night
And I come here to training
And when I leave tonight
Ecoute, mon spectacle est fini some of you
Will stand by me for ever but some of you
May-be
People thank you, I do this for all the mean creators
I was someone who never needed favors to get where I'm at
Now they deem me a savior
But to be
Stay G'd up from the feet up, while your heart pump duck sauce
I love it when they tough talk, my guns lust to bust off
But every time I squeeze they
the elders loved by Pigmeat Markum
Called here comes the judge.
City streets created poets who spoke the blues.
Through neatly phrased rhymes they delivered
is a racist fuck (me too)
Steven A. Smith tried to defend him on his show
Sayin' that the picture was from sixty-five years ago (nah)
When they
for shock value?
Well, I mean, I don't know in a minute
If I fucking sit down and piss
They're going to tell me I can't do
That cause another bitch did
Appeal with the skin color of mine
You get too big and here they come tryin'
To censor you, like that one line
I said on "I'm Back" from The
Mathers LP 1
It's either pick me out the bunch, I'm the realest one
I was on my way to get that Lamb' when I heard the feds come
I had to pull off over and park, it
We got the real live shit from front to back (ayo, can y'all hear me out there?)
To my niggas in the world, where the fuck you at? (Ayo, turn me up,
motherfucking money
But then when it comes from your brother, your sister, your mother, your father
That shit hurts you to the core man
When they start acting
la la, sex in France
It's a magical romance
Come away with me for one more night
Let's make love 'till the morning light
In Bordeoux they always play
from here
When every sense is in mono
Walk by faith, you appear
I want to live in stereo
I can't get there from here
Without a G\od-directed go
like no deeper underlying shit
At a live performance
I performed this shit in my bedroom
So this shit's personal when
I'm just in my room dancin'
Alone
perfect
I never met a demon that was worth it (yeah)
They know to book Vor' come with amenities and plenty fees
Your favorite model is not a ten to me, I
Let's run off to paris baby
By the eiffel holding hands
Let's run off to paris baby
Live free in foreign lands, yea
I wanna um, thank you for taking
to me like commissary
All of a sudden, now every-body Big Willie
Done did it, come widdit
Get yo' head splitted
Or get your neck slitted, admit it
You
(Fun to me)
Comedy gold, I don't give a shit and you probably know
Have it on your Bromley-by-Bows
'fore I get dark like only night knows
Linkin
, by-by-by, Jamal-Ski, ki-ki-kiyah!
[Jamal-Ski] {best guess}
Jump up and be upon the mic and stick em
Come follow me the man me work for the mic
They
shit they didn't like
Ridin marble white
I might just break em off, when I come dripped out right
I'm talkin shoes by Hirachi, shirts by Versace
Hoes
off the backboard
Fuck a Grammy, that is not what I come back for
I came for hip-hop, niggas forgot to lock the back door
Live by the code, die by
these cats
While they makin' up facts (uh) you rakin' up plaques
In The Commission, you ask for permission to hit 'em
He don't like me, hit him while
how I'm shown
Everything comes from my heart
Get shocked like a lightning bolt
I transform I'm so incredible
Like the Hulk you never know
When I get
I'm good at (oh)
But don't be me, 'cause if you grow up and you go and O.D.
They're gonna come for me and I'ma have to grow a goatee
And get
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