Lyrics:
bitches keep jumpin on my dick just to feel me
You came home early homie you heard ya girl squeelin did ya hear me?
So i say thanx to MR. Chris for signing
the perfect spot, I will make yo lose your top
(Bridge)
Are you ready for this evening love?
Massage your body for this love…
(Hook)
Evening love, (are you
and scared of me
Buckle your seat belt, it's time for takeoff
I don't think you're ready for this jelly
I don't think you're ready for this jelly
I don't
and scared of me
Buckle your seat belt, it's time for takeoff
I don't think you're ready for this jelly
I don't think you're ready for this jelly
I don't
innocent
I can, I can get you right
Me and my homie, endorphins are air tight
Pleasure's what I swear by
My one code there's no code
Do what thou will
And then I'll reload
And reload, and reload, and reload, and load
Whole barrel explode!!!!
Nigga I'm T-are-you, that means I'm TRU 2 Da Game
Mention me
They by my leg you talking all that shit we spray
We in this hood lil nigga we gon let it bang
We aint give a fuck this is murder gang
Murder shit
Its
how I'm ridin ya
You know I keep the lil stick in the side ya
Praying a nigha don't fuck up my vibe
Cause I know my Nighas they ready to slide ya
We
and watch drugs kill you, I fail as a brother
Sobered up, I don't think they ready for the new me, they in trouble
Prada, K Carbon, she makin' CG look good
feed you bread and water, get you ready for the slaughter
That's why your homeboy just went out and bought her
AR-15, I can make the bitch sing
Ain't
Hey Mr. Clean
You're dirty now too"
John Lee's was rocking
The Imitators drove it home
Sun was dancing up a heatwave
For a while she was all
Hey Mr. Clean
You're dirty now too"
John Lee's was rocking
The Imitators drove it home
Sun was dancing up a heatwave
For a while she was all
Supreme violence of the time describers (yes)
I'm the decider, you evil eyers
A pile driver provider for liars, the sleep depriver
The nick of time mercy
(I don't)
He make you pay for freedom (I won't)
Mr. The one who pays the judge
So you can't defeat 'em (God)
Yeah I see you Mister (Mister)
I know you
The stronger it gets
With death life the longer it gets
I know it’s hard to admit
That you follow some bullshit
Swallow the wrong pill looking for mr bill
motherfuckers 'fore they get you
Pray to the heavens, .357's to the sky
And I hope I'm forgiven for thug living when I die
I wonder if Heaven got a ghetto for
Twenty-three years, still ain't penetratin' the culture
You are not top five in mine, B.I.G or Pac eyes
No Andre, no Nas, stop tellin' white lies
Sniff
(y'all now)
Y'all better get ready for ball'r records and thugline
Caught up in the rapture, we got ya just after one rhyme
They don't really wanna
Can you tell a
Nigga never had shit (Never had shit)
I flooded saks with hundiddys with a Bad bitch (Off the juice)
Mr and mrs smith shoot a bitch
"Oh I know I'm drunk now
Ladies and gentleman, I for-
I forgot my favorite man sitting over there
His name is"
Mista Dobalina, Mr. Bob Dobalina
"Oh I know I'm drunk now
Ladies and gentleman, I for-
I forgot my favorite man sitting over there
His name is"
Mista Dobalina, Mr. Bob Dobalina
really ready?
No, I hit make 'em sick like a *choghs* bad cold
Lil Doogey and I ride the 4 by 4 shh
Nigga I'm too fast you can't slow my roll What
Listen to me young soldiers, salaros the laws of the street
you know the law enemies stand side by side
You can either kill em now or wait for them
weight by the key and backed up every gram
And stay ready for busting wit the pistol in they hand
I'm preaching murder like a vicious reverend
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