Lyrics:
to give a shit about me
Zombie gang all y'all niggas pace is
On some basic shit it's no wonder that you sound the same
So forever am I living staying out
Admit's he's "getting anxious" about
The looming deadline
He's clearly not thrilled at the
Idea of finishing it
Via focus group "Only one person in the
Room
Where you from? You ain't from where I from lil nigga
It look bad for a nigga, funeral set up, it look sad for a nigga
40 Ruger shooters, gave all
drop it low
And bust it open money
Cause we throwin' Lou
Women all in they birthday suit
If Jackpot your favorite crew then
Pop that like Uncle Luke
I
mad brain, Mr. Rosenberg
Will the real MicGrady stand up, stand up
I see myself in all of y'all, it's tough, it's tough (Which one are you)
Just a bunch
of England isn't the same
All the bars in Leeds charge at least 4 quid a pint
You can tell me to get with the times but it's Yorkshire, I'm tight
I'm not about
on
I wouldn't call it love but it damn sure strong
It ain't about doin' dirt or living like a flirt
But what they don't know don't hurt
Me and Mrs. Jones
a thing going on
I wouldn't call it love but it damn sure strong
It ain't about doin' dirt
Or living like a flirt
But what they don't know don't hurt
though we no more
Mr. Star, much love to Navi, Butcher, D-Lo, (Miss Cole)
Butcher source of Quran right now, it's all good, much love to ya!
All my
wrist
Get ki money from a quarter, blame it on my wrist
I whip coke like hoes, nigga, I'm a pimp
Lil' nigga 'bout to rape the market
If we talking
wrist
Get ki money from a quarter, blame it on my wrist
I whip coke like hoes, nigga, I'm a pimp
Lil' nigga 'bout to rape the market
If we talking
I up the gutta gutta lil boys freeze up
Skeeza all you can do is eat the meat up
It's ten thousand grams of that raw in the freezer
My gun never jam
Bahdi-by-by
Get it.. right, nigga
They all know Lil' Weezy ride at.. night, nigga
I dip low, and I'm strapped up.. tight, nigga
Duct tape your momma,
on the Boulevard to brotherhood buddies
Poking in my pocket it's an E for the moneys
Jay and all the jokes that jet in the Jettas
While I'm at the boob tube
the tropics
So keep it moving lil homie and just fuckin drop it
Or bring it to me, show me what the fuck y'all bout to do
I'm all by myself, and y'all got ya
Elvis
Let's bet it on all red
And let's do it all over again
Mrs. Parker can I chill in yo driveway
Mrs. Parker can I chill in yo car
Mrs. Parker kinda
blow you back, bring it back, it's on here, throw it back
Yeah, I don't play no games boy, I'm at your head
All about the family, niggas took
blow you back, bring it back, it's on here, throw it back
Yeah, I don't play no games boy, I'm at your head
All about the family, niggas took
Made By Money Sign
It's Mr. KSO, I'm all about the make dough
If you ain't bout the strips, it's cause you ain't touch a bankroll
Uh, give KO's these
the fame, I don't want the money, nigga keep it
Niggas stuck up in they ways and they be hatin' for no reason
Who that is
Boy that's Mr. Stand-On-Business
be kicking knowledge like mr.miyagi
I show these rappers how to do it
Money making connoisseur watch how I maneuver
You can check who I influenced
Its
that money stretch, Mr. Fantastic
Ok, now imma make the money stack
if i lose it, get it back
Ridin with some killers say my name and they gon get you
This culture came from
And what it's really all about
I got you, my nigga, yo, ayo
Count to ten and then come in shootin'
Fuck peace, Silverback the new
posted by my door
I'm from Da No
Yeah I stay Polo to the floor
Ooh, my money long, I cut my homies short
From Golden Acres, what it is
It really ain't i
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