Lyrics:
Hip-Hop style baby, y'all remember
By the middle of March, when the pregnancy starts
In your ladies' placenta, that means L just entered
Duck taped your
Chorus
Tell this apprentice follow my lead
Aventus they aint my creed
Them man are two's up tryin to buy some weed
I'm like Scuse up I'm on Title
ain't eating, ten pound for the weekend
Griminal's doing his ting
And Devlin's gone, he must feel left out
By the time I'm done here
There won't be one
the q the r the s the t the you the v
W, x, y, z, it's bullshit to me
Rhyme to the rhythm of a or should I give a brother time
And move on, you
of my time
Titles ruin everything
Before we crossed that line
You were more by my side
Titles ruin everything
Look at everything your ex's done did
Everything I do, I be ten steps ahead (ten)
My youngin' got them bodies, he still piss in the bed
Keep the code of silence, don't repeat what I
Ridin strikers
Let 'em go for nine something
If it came with the title
Ima slap on the other ten
If I like her
Then I wanna bite her
Make my ex despite
You got to work, struggle, hustle all day
Cause someone always wants to take the title
When you reign
Stay on your toes, so you remain
Stay atop
You had me standing on ten when you walk by
Walk walk
Every time you walk by
It ain't my fault
This might be a real love
It ain't been bought
We never
my shoes, made it even worse. I worked in an environment where you're judged by your shoes. You dare not wear scuffed shoes. You dare not wear
the moans of Al Capone
Gun POW to the dome
And split the bone, wig blown off the ledge
By the alledged, full-fledged, sledge RZA edge
One dose of my
Not talking bout racks I don't want talk no more
A hook by Young I'Sa a 10 fasho
I was dripping I had the Givenchy coat
It came with the title we
God mode
I'm a rockstar
That's for y'all...(hey, huh)
Honeymooner
Not in my arsenal
I go by john doe
She give me that jaw though
Good, good vibes in
I’m in Las Vegas punching, this the title fight
Dark web junkie scam God, get my title right
I do it by the book, bitch I live a fraud bible life
Sassoon, chrome tones hear the moans of Al Capone
Gun POW to the dome
And split the bone, wig blown off the ledge
By the alleged, full-fledged, sledge RZA
Most niggaz want titles and they, rap for fame
I'm the Ghetto Bill gangsta, best hustling in the rap game
Homies run they mouth in the hood like Jose
the Nasty
My wallos I did 'em up
Them bricks I send 'em up
My raps y'all bit 'em up
For that now stick 'em up
Ten Four good buddy Tone got is money up
Know we walk by shootin' jam 2
If a dem alone, nobody nuh dead
If a we alone, everyday another marrow spread
Mr laing and bigga ford cyaa
Save yuh big
estates been guarded by pit bulls and AK's
I'm straight cookin' them thangs
Movin' weight like I should
'Cause a nigga livin' good
Don't
estates been guarded by pit bulls and AK's
I'm straight cookin' them thangs
Movin' weight like I should
'Cause a nigga livin' good
Don't
the feds run devices
Mama my backbone, she stood by me wrong or right
Let me rewind this shit, gotta rewind that lick
I lost 'bout ten on that shit, I
to a necklace
Adidas suit flier than shell toes
Maneuver in the coupe, the roof by my elbows
Niggas wanna be me, bitches wanna date me
Young black and rich so
a bond that was tight, (oh)
What you know bout' falling off over a title...
(oou 6x) x4
of Al Capone
Gun POW to the dome
And split the bone, wig blown off the ledge
By the alledged, full-fledged, sledge RZA edge
One dose of my feroc(ious)
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