Lyrics:
Aahhow
Oh oh oh oh oh yeh
You're more than a number in my little red book
You're more than a one night date
All I had to take me was just one
oooooooooo yeah yeah,
You're more than a number in my little red book,
you're more than a one night date,
All it had to take me was just one look,
My
My flow was opium, we cock bottles and open them
The relevance
Stop by, tryna see a nigga
All I buy is these trees, king
100 ki's in them
in my court of Camelot. I must speak with your
lord and master.
GUARD #1: What, ridden on a horse?
ARTHUR: Yes!
GUARD #1: You're using
position so get back to where you came here from
I'm serious, my flow is sure to leave you in delirium
Delirious, delicious rhymes, so thank me if you're
The two-faced who pretend liberality but are
Practiced bigots in their own
Mean little spheres i
Didn't tell my daughter whom to marry
But I'd have broken her
some Bloods over there
To pop and bang
Yeah I'm talkin' HardenIt'll be more red
In Jersey than a Rocket's g you so trash
The way you rap now is old Cass'
of my neck
Refrain
If you got the red chip
You're on the crazy ship
When you look around the town
You'll see all the people turnin' black and brown
Cause his whole career he been
Known for havin' terrible lines
In every category I'm better
I do it more Cass'
And my delivery probably sicker than
scolding folds of red and
Gold are my desire it's my sacred duty
Keep the beauty burning higher
Leave you dismembered in the embers
Every felling swells
years old
And she already knows what Red Bull tastes like, I'm fucked
Judge, if you're seeing this, please let me have McKenzie back
I even wore my
and
Nicki argued over that night in the studio
But they are part of a larger texture
No more or less important than
Anything else confessional
Wounding songs
the Master Gee
Well, my name is known all over the world
By all the foxy ladies and the pretty girls
I'm goin' down in history
As the baddest rapper there
on the wall
That I think my daughter drew as a rainbow
You're standing in a pentacle
Being judged by lower level personnel
Garth Brooks said I have friends in
them money stacks
Thicker than a phone book
Paper on top of paper
Its lookin’ like a notebook
Its thicker than a phone book
Its thicker than a phone book
the Master Gee
Well, my name is known all over the world
By all the foxy ladies and the pretty girls
I'm goin' down in history
As the baddest rapper there
for my village, yeah
I do it for my pe (Aye, yes, sir)
And the blood drippin' by the gallons (Grr)
Dolo in the whip, I solo any clique
It's not
sort of in between?
Look, play a little more
I'll show you what I mean!
Who wants to live in New York?
I've always hated the dirt, the heat,
to make my tune sell
Call yourself a singer-writer
You're just bluffin'
Your name's on the credits and you didn't write nothin'
I sing fast, I know that
of danger even
Though we live in a world infinitely safer
And more predictable than
Anything our ancestors knew with their help
Our anxieties have only
don't seem to mean much;
Of anyone we've used more that most.
Feelings from the heart that have been distorted and mocked,
Thrown around in
science
That mean I'm higher than higher learnin', look in my eyes
That's where the fire's burnin'
Try to deny a music messiah's returnin'
You die
are colder than Sweden
So Boy Better Know that it’s gun season
Don't think I'm wearing gloves for no reason
Kill Devilman and dump him in Neasden
My
number only because of E that
Was my little man i used to
Give E pies he used to
Flip them shit's like he had
Spatulas, right in the Bridge
But that’s
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