Lyrics:
honest
No Diddy
First of all, can we talk 'bout the shit that they say on the way
fuck that album, fuck that single, burn that hard drive, say it to your
the wall of building six
After school we'd dodge syringes catching tadpoles in the ditch
Every other weekend Dad would pick us up for two days
Eating cold
Pay day
I think it's payday
Gettin green everyday
Nigga it's a payday
Everyday a pay day
Put 100 racks in the bank
It's payday hey
Pay day
I think
(Ay)
Made like 40 in the booth (Ay)
Made my mind go crazy
Talking album on the daily
You know my story by now (Ooouuu)
You know my story by now (Ooouuu)
on in your parents' bedrooms
Sometimes I wanna get on TV and just let loose
But can't, but it's cool for Tom Green to hump a dead moose
"My bum is
on in your parents' bedrooms
Sometimes I wanna get on TV and just let loose
But can't, but it's cool for Tom Green to hump a dead moose
"My bum is
head and give it up
Ain’t no debating
Shawty said she love
How I ride on the beat
UnderRated doing 1500 in a week
This my first album and I did it by
I'm feeling on top
Brand new timeline gotta take note, write down
Stupid fucks really think I don't know by now
Got the hand so green from this cash
Broad day light give ya daymares
Send em packing like take care
Caught em napping like daycare
He don't know what happen by the blank stare
Pistol pointed
[Chorus: x8]
This a trap
This ain't no album
This ain't no game
This a trap (trap muzik)
Welcome back to the trap
Niggas back in the trap
days
Gon sell like they on eBay
I say, bid, offer is there
Spit it like an auctioneer
Clear, I pay the price
Pray to Christ, that when I step up in
'em grown and then watch 'em lead
Let me proceed, bumpin' that that Californication, by the Red Hot
Fuck around and then hit 'em with a red dot
Y'all
Artist: E.S.G. f/ D-Reck, D-Gotti, Noke D
Album: City Under Siege
Song: Thugs in Heaven
(*talking*)
Fuck that shit, I done lost another-another one
you you're improving
But he's just being nice 'cause he knows you're losing it, uh
On Free Mindstate, you were good, not great
By this album, hell no,
the Yellow Pages under smooth shit
'Cause Red ain't down for the bullshit
Niggas fucked up by letting me make an album
(How come, rude boy?)
To get
of
That cash, I keep it in my jeans, bitch
Have you ever seen it? A big pile of green shit?
When I spend it, bitch, I'm the man
I do what I want, suckers
[background ad libs by P. Diddy]
(Danger)
(Danger)
(Ah ah ah)
(Danger)
Today is the day we ride, you's a made your whole fucking family by
say you're so fake
And as the days go by, you can't forget
The way I make you feel like shit
MC's like you, I've seen 'em before
You keep
a Corvette
Watch your boy blow up in front
Of your eyes: war vet
Give the fans nuttin' but fire
Now they want more of it
E'rybody want my album
It ain't in
lightin' the green
I need the bucket, even though I look right in the beam
Judge find out it's my team, he boost they bails
Niggas throw us on they album
I wanna thank y'all for supporting Juice Music Group
And this new album called Society's Genius by Juice Jones
I was poverty's fool
But now I'ma give
the same, I'm on my block every day
So how the fuck could I be Hollywood?
I spend most of my days
Tryna figure out who loves me for me or for the fame
in a Lambo
Call shots, then I make em' like Rambo
I stack green like lettuce in a cambro
Y'all playin' like you're made by Hasbro
Y'all playin' with
Judging rap by race instead of the better flow
Who gives a fuck who made it, I penetrated and innovated
While they emulated, give a fuck if I'm hated
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