Lyrics:
that mediocre flow
I tried to Google you but all that
Came up was that you a ho
By the way my girl's name
Ain't Briahna it's Brianna
You wouldn't know
I don't know, we'll never fucking meet
I cut my wrist and play piano 'cause I'm so depressed
Somebody call the pastor, this bastard is so possessed
the east side of the Bronx, you just a Highbridge dick-rider
You mad at my nigga Mula 'cause his shit hotter
I know how it feels
Nah, I'm lying, I don't
pick Key
Dollar menu version, call you McKey
Cheese this mouse
Call you Mickey
Don't say you do not deserve that
You are so crazy
I will go berserk back
got pain to it
You know my name's stupid
This hoe out of my league
She bad on FaceTime, let's see it
Said she got a fat ass, let's see it
She don't
Don't call the fuzz
Give me a buzz
To drown out the taste
I don't want the booze
To just go to waste
This is the time
You tie up your shoes
And run
got the Keys like Alicia
I'm a family guy call me 24 Peter
Griffin what the fuck you missing
I ain't never met him why the fuck the nigga dissing
And we
don't know...
That I dug my key into the side
Of his pretty little suped up 4 wheel drive,
Carved my name into his leather seats...
I took a Louisville
dollar’s worth of that bathroom Polo
Oh, and he don't know
That I dug my key into the side of his pretty little souped-up four-wheel drive
Carved my name
dollars worth of that bathroom Polo
Oh, and he don't know
Oh, that I dug my key into the side
Of his pretty little souped up four-wheel drive
Carved my
worth of that bathroom Polo
Oh, and he don't know
That I dug my key into the side of his pretty little souped-up four-wheel drive
Carved my name into his
Dreams of Alicia Keys
Shotgun up in the car
Call me Mr. Moe while I’m in the bank
Dream big cuz you know you’re always closer than you think
A man who
(4:30 in the morning, mira)
You know what I mean, mira
Dame te culo, mami (give me my shit back, give me my shit back)
Yo, Fat Joe and them is
History deal
Still dames have been giving me slow neck
And I don't even know what they real names have been
I feel ashamed to spend, cause when it comes
Say my niggas don't dance we just pull up our pants and
Do the Rockaway
I was raised by Hip-Hop Tupac Mac Dre
West side, I ain't a crip or a blood
thin oxidized box cutter
Lost lamb ecosystem, dribblin' on my person
You see my version of
Ruler don't include underlings
Thumbing through yellow pages
rooms I don’t know that you would get many hits on your C.V.
I have to admit I never watched the standup of or listened to the comedy records of Bill
Good Morning, boys and girls
I'm your substitute teacher
My name is Mr. Buckworth
The topic for today is
What you would like to be when you grow
Good Morning, boys and girls
I'm your substitute teacher
My name is Mr. Buckworth
The topic for today is
What you would like to be when you grow
stalker
Words thrillin', so real they're chillin', the hit author
Gettin' louder than a shot gun, you don't want none
Rhyme pays was the name of the album
Moment of Truth 3
For those that don't know what a moment of truth be
This whole album's a moment of true heat
Roberto & Danny trying to live what
shit
Thirty in the clip catch the whole thing
Feds know a nigga by his whole name
Shoot him in his head for his gold chain
You was running ball, we was
truly free
But now I have learned the truth
My happiness doesn't come from a pew
Whoa
I know this is true
I don't need to be beholden
To a set of rules
the cut, with my Bible in front my gut
And when I jump up, you know the fallen angels duck
Or break and runnin, and as for prisoners I'm takin none
I'm
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