Lyrics:
See this dish
Not your wish
Wishful thinking forcing deeds
Meant for me
You're a beast
Beastly dreams upon on my leash
Serving me on your knees
Kneel
Ntawm koj ib sab (Right by your side)
Yuav tsis tso koj cheb (I won't let you go)
Wb lub neej tom ntej (Our future is ahead)
Baby i'll be there for you
Fucked up you right there while I was rhymin'
Now you're sulking in the corner, a baby crying
Hittin' up now we feelin' to rock Mars
Fuckin' up
Songs by Bob B. Soxx
I can do every Christmas thing there is to do
But I won’t merry if I’m not with you
Well I can jingle all the bells 'til the deer
wait, no way, you're kidding
He didn't just say what I think he did, did he?"
And Dr. Dre said, nothing, you idiots
Dr. Dre's dead, he's locked in my
wait, no way, you're kidding
He didn't just say what I think he did, did he?"
And Dr. Dre said, nothing, you idiots
Dr. Dre's dead, he's locked in my
a surplus
You look like you should be In a circus
Mmhmm clown here mate
Plus I heard you're not welcome 'round the estate
You, got run down by the young g's
what if who did who did
Maybe you and all you're there with
Terribly tempting I may need some air
What if what if who did who did
Can't be sure who all
through the game, then rep for the borough
And there ain't no name that can make me shudder
Woke by a clock, and I wouldn't be alarmed
Nah
Sheero, how
they
Jammin' to your groovey attitude, your chill vibe, and
When alarms are beepin' crazy, you're right there by their side.
I passed the M.H. tests,
I can tell the way you feel
When you're with me
And when you're by yourself
Can you feel the way it feels
When holding hands with somebody else
I've
Yeah
Hit em with the venom
There's no need to pretend
No way to prevent it
No way to contend it
I know you offended
Man I'm in the end zone
Put
you go, do you think it's pretty?
He goes, "Don't be so cocky
I'm just doin' my job"
Well, your job's fucked up
Don't say you're sorry 'bout it, Bob
you hatred
There's no applause for ya and success is hard for ya
There's enemies, envy, with green my niggas, lawnmower
And I'm on tour, Jordan 4's, Tom
you ain't with it, without a doubt
By some (brothers) from (Brooklyn) you'll (get) stomped (out)
(That's right)
It's time to get stupid and cold
I love a Daytona rose gold Rolex, the black face,
I got a Fendi fur, some Tom Ford thigh high's and a crocodile Birkin.
That's not basic right
I love a Daytona rose gold Rolex, the black face,
I got a Fendi fur, some Tom Ford thigh high's and a crocodile Birkin.
That's not basic right here
synchronized on time, just in time
If I cry I know you're by my side
Right there by my side
If I die you made it the best day of my life, on my life
cin't
crossing the river
Oh man, look at that sky so blue there's almost no clouds in the sky
It's the sound of Bob Dylan
Chris i quite the follower
There's some
Don't say goodbye
TRACK WRITTEN BY: TOM QUICK
ALEX BITTLES GARY CONNOR
the Cumberland
Smothered by undertows
Yeah, I got a bad habit
I ain't talkin' underglow
I'm talkin' murder with pens I got
At Staples a month ago
While I was there
Steadfast, you know I'm staying loose
Swinging for the fences, like I'm Bob Abreu
I come in dead last, I'm not gonna chase you
Don't want to make it
many friends by my side, and those who are gone are still with me
It isn't a matter of pride, to kill the dark lord has been written in prophecy
It's
And this money, murder, power, comin' for the ass, nigga, ass, nigga
Last nigga, there were cemeteries diggin' grass, nigga
The obituary leaves the last
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