Lyrics:
the shirt without the tie
Love is a five letter word
It's simply M-O-N-E-Y
You can't live on kisses
Or a warm embrace
In case your charm misses
You
The next day,
as the Royal Court session was about to begin,
a soldier entered.
He held a letter in his hand
which he anded over to the King.
Your Majesty,
Beats by Jhay yeah
Aye yeah
Best rapper in Africa yeah I'm really popping
Niggas really asking why I'm being so cocky
You should ask your sister why
Hol on this train goin' by
Pull up im sending that playa hater home
Slugs too thick they penetrate his dome
Fuck with the enemy you fuck with my bro
write it in bold letters
They love a nigga's spirit like Pac at the Coachella
They said Pusha ain't fit with the umbrella
But I was good with the Yay'
way
Step step step step by step
Pass da shit
Pass da mic
Buster Bros!!!
One, two, three let's get it on!
Go go go go my way
Step step step step
that you see on a TV screen
I need my money in all blues like BB King
VVs bling bright as bitch, high as a cliff
Shut the fuck up when your highness is
law
One hundred for sure
Gigs of knowledge
Knowledge galore
More than nine cuts for sure
King 19AJI
The nineteenth letter
Precious gems I sing
Lyrical
and gold
Victoria Crosses won by Booth, and Nesbitt brought us fame
We're the only police in the world with a King's Standard to our name
Both soldiers
changing directions
BB got a new extension, increases the tension
Thank my daddy for his pension, now I’m out in the trenches
Even blocked a section
he's the king of the skies
White feather scope time I'm a Sniper on the rise
I'm filling my bireme with much doe
Stop with the dealing your Makin no doe
If you're not having any luck with the girls
You need to step into the spotlight world
Watch some movies with Steve McQueen
Get some music by BB King
"Were you man enough?"
Long letters how the streets got the best of you
Telling all your cellies how come I ain't sitting next to you
Yeah, see I can read
wanna see inside your head
Long live the king, the king is dead
And when I asked him how it feels he said
I don't feel no more
Dead letters addressed
The name's Fiyablasta, got it memorized?
The abstract king is about to give you oblivion
Giving you vivid lyrics of written killings by spilling
praise the day that porn began
Loser wins a Kewpie doll
Not-the-father Maury dance
Saddle spin apple sins kings that cry
Ousted by the clergy we're not
(remember this)
Please keep me in your heart, if we ever have to part
(Ay, don't forget shawty)
Don't forget, -get, to remember me
(It's the King
some prophecies (Prophecies)
Some of which he's gonna see
He's told to be the Thane of Cawdor (Ay)
And to be the king of Scotland
So, Macbeth wants
bustin' slugs
We sure to stay in touch and clean your mess up
And if you from the West Coast, my n*gga westside
[Verse 3: Nas]
Game got at me about
Brother, Derek X, kick flavor
I do my thing like B.B. King my microphone is named Lucille
Throw a dip in my hip so they call me extra ill
Making big
to you
But it's what we deserve
Needle on the track, I'm dope
You niggas got some nerve
That's drug talk, '88 volvo
Gold bbs, man rest in peace, macho
If I were a guitar,
I'd like to be played by BB King
If I were a little dog,
Rufus Thomas could walk me
Oh, but I'm a man,
Who needs to be
Brother, Derek X, kick flavor
I do my thing like B.B. King my microphone is named Lucille
Throw a dip in my hip so they call me extra ill
Making big
importants que la beauté
Malheureusement on trouve des hypocrites de tous cotés
I do everything by myself I don't need anybody
B*tch just wear your clothes I
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