Lyrics:
Greetings Gods and Goddesses
I go by the monicker of F1b0nacc1 the Fountainhead
And I'll be your worldwide anthropological tour guide this evening
lungs
The streets was requesting some original LL
A soundtrack for niggas that was raised in {hell}
They looking for a leader that can guide 'em
get it on, you know?)
How white is your blow?
(Jigga, Kid Capri, yo) Only, write what you know
(Soundtrack for the streets nigga) How tight is
get it on, you know?)
How white is your blow?
(Jigga, Kid Capri, yo) Only, write what you know
(Soundtrack for the streets nigga) How tight is
The top ten grossing movies of all time have earned their place in film history by breaking box office records and captivating audiences around
was originally
Scheduled to be released last
Year, but it was pushed back
By Meek's label, Atlantic
After he was sentenced to
Six months in prison
(He
Backwoods, your White Owls, your Dutches'
And we gon' smoke and gon' ride to this shit right here, you know what I'm sayin'?
This is that shit here,
and falsely accuse him
After being murdered by Pilate how can it be
these same white Romans established Christianity
Constantine would later see the cross in
Ayo real talk, 6ix
As soon as you played me this joint I already knew
Yo this some fucking, Last Call shit
And it got me hella excited 'cause I
Backwoods, your White Owls, your Dutches'
And we gon' smoke and gon' ride to this shit right here, you know what I'm sayin'?
This is that shit here,
Now I'm living in cell block six, go ahead
Step in my office
Excuse the smell of my armpit's, nutsack
And I can't flush down my shit's
Till the shit's
If you’re not paying close attention
Dove Cameron might convince you that she
Can be in two places at once
In the past six years, the 23-year-old
I'm quiet
I'm original sin, sing me some hymns
I'm pensive, don't try it
Or I massacre the laughter of your eighty seven riot
Seven eighty six didn't
rare over by Cherson, Cherson,
we calcify fathers here below
a watery cross, with weeds
entwined
This grins restoredly,
low sleep
Wave
Oh, no,
shush
steeples
Yo well I'm back, throwing flack out the Pontiac
I got a bone to pick with white picket cul de sacs
It's definition: wack, the no through, rode
into a six by eight steel cabinet
Flippin' weights readin' ancient tablets, back on the block nobody's havin it
Those who haven't learnt get returned
known at the time for hits from Lisa Lisa and Cult Jam and they had this massive hit by the Backstreet Boys, All I Have To Give. Every so often I rip him
manhood
You beat upon little boys in the hood
Oh - what you're man enough to kill in a drive-by
Drive by the White House and all you do is wave hi
While
Guns go off, Shams is a Raiders fan
A rhyming gallop reporter, columns are lost
White five, black five with dollars to toss
Twisted by the dark side
"The first words I spoke in the original phonograph, 'Mary had a little lamb. It's fleece was white as snow. And everywhere that Mary went, the lamb
Make bad shit worse when I mix with the whites
It's me I'm smack can't you tell by the height
40's and 40's the ghettos they know me
Pro like Adobe but
angus
Never blow no heat or tote no bangers
What you see on TV is Nickelodeon
Street sweepers cleaning out your block like they custodians
Pass by's
don't care if he was vulnerable
In a home full of drug abuse and incest
Or allegedly brainwashed by white supremacists
Whatever the case may be for him
Puerto Rican, half black...")
Now how old are you?
About six, on my BMX, doin tricks
Back to Middlesex with a couple of poor white trashy brats
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