Lyrics:
Malibu on my yacht (twenty-five hoes)
I got twenty-five M's in the bank, no cap, no lie (yes sir) (twenty-five)
Run up an M, ain't trickin' (run it up)
know what they need
All of our fans, they be getting these sick beats
Welcome. My name is west
Doin amiibo tournaments, y'all know the rest
Slapping off
confused
Just know this music ain't temporary
I'm always making moves
Feeling like I got lots to prove
I'm permanent like a tattoo
Y'all can call this my
treatment, ooh this life so good
White skin, they can't believe that I got friends in the hood
I know the love songs and melodies throw y'all off
Don't give
What's all the noise about?
Have some respect shut the fuck up
Driveby money talkin shit yo back the truck up
Y'all niggaz don't respect me but
Man, Yes Sir
Ya'll Can't Fuck Wit Us, At All
We Can Go To War For Years
Let's Do It Man (Our Grandsons Could Get It On) Its Nuffin
Let's Do It
[Cam'Ron]
and these are Versace air ones!
Yea, thanks a lot, its been great Dame
My bitch is a great Dame, my dog is a GREAT DANE
You know me I'm from the 24(th),
think this
Got a lot to say, don't want to jinx it
If I fuck it up, I could not fix it
First we make it and then I can mix it
'Cause y'all tripping
you run some Miles like a fucking mayor
So, it’s fuck y’all, ‘cause I don’t care
Make your second guesses ‘cause I’m on the first
I mean, I’m the nigga,
the fanta mix mine with the lean
Nigga be loyal to the money
A lot friendships that can't survive thru the greed
Fuck you if you really don't agree
All my
it don't mix
And you don't even know you're waiting for your rhyme fix
But my mind sticks, my rhyme hits, your mind gets
Amputated, 'cause your
niggas think you playin' with?
Yup
Give you thirty-three like I'm Mason
Yup
Hogtie 'em up in the basement
Mask on, you don't even know who you facing
don't got
Ya'll talk a whole lot
A whole lot of what not
Ya'll ain't Hip-Hop
Ya'll pop
Drop
Every rap is coated in gasoline know this notice
My spit flick
I was just down bad I don't owe y'all niggas, like 10 and 4, made it shake
These niggas cool but I don't know y'all niggas, still thuggin' with Benny
y'all are listenin to!
All you dj's are lettin the program directors handcuff you
And sit there and tell you how to mix?! you fuckin robots!
Fuck y'all
You keep coming out of pocket
They ‘gon talk about you
Don’t say sorry, can’t be sorry
When you walk like I do
Y’all on Sega, I’m Atari
Y’all don’t
close to God, ayy
Scammin' plus he fraud
I don't want me close to y'all
Ayy, ayy, woah, ayy
I mix Tech with Wock', ayy
I mix Tech with Wock', ayy
I mix
(Ah Yea)
(Ah Yea)
They stay faking
(Ah Yea)
(Ah)
I've known that they've been faking
Two cups got them next to me
Yes sir got her by my side now
They
Yea, what it feel like
Like y'all don't know the name
Vice, tell em' what that feel like
Like y'all don't know the...(Whoo!)
It's a shame that y'all
chicks and get some digit's
And the DJ's playing them hit's
"Oh, this my jam! This my shit!
We don't know a word to a verse
All we know is the chorus
Smokin' on a Philly,
Mix it up wit 40,
Bitch I know you hear the music,
It's me be-Legit an the Ice Cream Man,
In the land,
We juss high as we
putting me on?
SMOCK
I don?t know, sir. As you know I am the Vulgarian and jokes are beyond me. (chuckle)
KWIRK
Hmmmm...That?s the first time I?ve
and I say don't hit my line
I've been working everyday just tryna put in the grind
Didn't run away from shit, but now I know that it is time
Time to fuck
can't use dem food stamps
Other crews like to sample and mix
But our crew, we just play that shit
Live, drums, bass, keys
Niggas don't like it, you
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