Lyrics:
When I spit that real shit they like run that back
Put the lime in the coconut, Then mix it all up
When life give you lemons, shouldn't give two fucks
(Z-Ro talking)
Motherfucking Z-Ro, tired of this
Motherfucking passenger side man
When I'ma drive
(Chorus - 2x)
Living in the passenger side
I want
with the exceptionals on Anybody's
List
Be it tragic sorrows or accomplished intellectuals
What we miss is the everyday, or quotidian in which we live
proper
He bout real as a 4 dollar bill, Carol City Copper
Chop 'em down, one by one, two by two this what I do
If you knew what I knew then you'll be
dead?
Probably because my aim is over nigga's heads/
East coast - west coast, I play the whole map and bounce/
They got a benz but live in their
how high
I'll be thinking of you the whole time
I'm carrying this heavy load
I don't know what to do
The only thing I know is that
I'm in love with you
might moo ya
I'm in effect with another funky groove
Posse up, Mix-A-Lot is on the move
Attack!
Attack!
Attack!
Oh, here we go, I dropped my
suffering while fuckers getting rich, yuh
Fuck that stimulus check, no money for me
All of USA is getting up in two teams
Oh, I don't have a say, I'm just
the story of how we recorded it and what went wrong when we did it. It happened in Switzerland, the song, a thing called Smoke On The
Water, this one.
Every motherfucker in here know my name
I was born then live y'all niggas (believe that bitch!) banned in
That's why I stunt so fuckin much
I ain't never
the USA ain't what I thought it would be
We hella gifted they treat us like ornaments hanging us up onnour family trees
I've had enough and bout ready
here) Bitch, what the fuck? (Wow)
Man, can you believe this bitch Floss? (Did you here what I said? I said come here)
She want a pimp to pay for some
right now I'm booing you
What did Kobe, Gigi and them other passengers do to you? (What they do?)
My condolences at this time is all I could offer
Kobe
niggas?
What we talkin' 'bout niggas?
This is Nas, what, Nas
What, nasty, what, recollect, fucker
At seventeen I made seventeen thousand livin' in public
style, I'm still *mini, money, mini, mini,
It aint all about the money*
[Verse 1]
When I was hustla, two dogs by my side plus a black pistola
Loud MCs,
red, my skin too black to blush
This bitch too rare to bust
Seen her in the iPhone pages
This ain't on the Gram, Wizard of OZ
Parka pockets full
[fatal - talking]
O.n.s. in this mother fucker
We got the plague in this mother fucker
The pentagon in this mother fucker
[verse 1 - fatal]
Around
that I'm a nigga who don't handle biz
We live by the trig, we die by the trig
Evidently, you done made a weak, freak move
I break crews goin' chop
live
I socialize with the wise
Underprivileged spiritually deprived
At times in the flesh
Airwaves getting checked
The vibe is energized by
muthafucka in my squad right
This nigga go by the name of Joc
He resides in College park right
But for right now
what we gotta do for yall
we gotta give yall
[ INTRO: Chris Rock ]
...All this ill shit
This fuckin Sir Mix-A-Lot shit
What the fuck is this shit?
See the shit's video?
'PUT IT ON THE GLASS!'
hoppin' out of sixes
Mines is black, Jermaine's is champagne
Jagged Edge in the blue, black and pearl white and gray
What a sight to be seen (uh)
So So
out and use gun like shield
The crew is worldwide, to think we started from the Hill
Beware, of quiet niggaz layin in the cut (for what
it's all on your face
You ain't never been proactive
This is pro-black hood, wrapped in Backwoods
Yeah we stack good and still show black love
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