Lyrics:
wait wait a minute
They built me filthy filthy filthy filthy
Built me filthy filthy filthy filthy
On the block they run run
When the truth come come
making
We flirtatious
Numbers exchanging
But her I don't get to taste
Cock blocked always
By your muthafucking hate
Ay
Tell me bitch
Tell me bitch
Tell me
This here's for the radio edit
We just got an X Rating
Imma gone and wet it
Yeah
Wait a minute baby
Wait a minute baby
Two strokes to the right
sorry but I do.
I hate people
And I don’t like it when they've filthy shoes
I hate people
It’s sad but its true
I hate people
And the annoying things
Lie-lie-lie-lie
Lie-lie-lie-lie
Lies-lies-lies-lies
This is it now
No longer going to see you
I've lost my hopes on seeing you
No longer hearing your
you can't hear the silence
Even when it's there. Like the wind seen from the window,
Seeing it but not being touched by it.
*
Words sometimes
#2: It could be carried by an African swallow!
GUARD #1: Oh, yeah, an African swallow maybe, but not a European
swallow, that's my point.
GUARD #2
like im Bob Marley', im always smoking
I don't tell no lies, bitch im never fucking joking
Ooo, ooo, ooo, ooo, that's the motion
Only needed two minutes
cry
Your voice breaks their filthy lies
Round up all those fat kulaks
Take em out of they house shoot em all in the back
Of their heads leave em dead,
hate on us, we hit 'em up
Baby we can't be touched, niggas give it up (Repeat x2)
Crime life!
(Ja Rule)
Ja's in, robbing the game, paws up niggas
Time's
gon' get it up
Anybody hate on us, we hit 'em up
Baby we can't be touched, niggas give it up (Repeat x2)
Crime life!
(Ja Rule)
Ja's in, robbing
now and you will beg for one more minute free
You've lived your life so pleasantly
So your filthy soul belongs to me
You will hydrate with your own
tell lies
Real niggas pay attention
Two niggas beef with me
One hot, one isn't
No awards, filthy rich
Guess what? ain't trippin
Ol g's og
Cause them
didn't want to have sex with me
Cause she already know I'm the boss
Blindin' by the ice on my wrist and the cross
Rollin on 4's every time I floss
AK by my
Come four by four, lose one like Dru Hill
Stay fly 'til you air sick, now that's ill
Two choices, either squeeze or peel, now that's real
What
God Hates Gucci
And
He don't wear Louie
Don't love guns
Guess who yours truly
Young Tim Duncan
With a bun in the oven
Jimmy and Chrissy
We was kissin
Havana Syndrome
God Hates Gucci
And
He don't wear Louie
Don't love guns
Guess who yours truly
Young Tim Duncan
With a bun in the oven
Jimmy
think for a minute
Nah I said think for a minute, no
Turn the lights out, let me think for a minute
A minute or two
So by the time this comes out, I'll
the violence bro
Block my foes in the name of the lord
One By one am full of surprises
Two By 2 that's a silent ride
Three On 3 I've seen that before
Four By 4
Money clean
Dirty jewelry
Chasing dreams
Made me filthy
Get the bag
That’s the plan
Then repeat
Do that again
(Uh yea)
Money clean
(Uh yea)
Dirty
the dooch powder
Summer's Eve, I drop degrees chill
Come four by four, lose one like Dru Hill
Stay fly till you air sick, now that's ill
Two choices,
quest
A greed law
That we abide by is ruthless
Enough will never satisfy
Until we toothless
Filthy millionaires
Are gamblin' until they muflis
love
I'm gonna live a different life
For a minute or two
It's all about the dollar signs, baby
Gonna get so filthy rich
That everyone I've ever met
Will
was rigged by punks who really hate me (oof)
Two-faced faux friends tryna humiliate me (tell 'em)
Fuck a dap after from filthy rat bastards
Don't
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