Lyrics:
to pump up the brakes
Get out the the car and sit in the back
Shutting up your mouth I swear I'm 'bout to snap
Want to help somebody then just cut all
délicat
Car les flammes sont véritables
J'repars devant pour le rechargement
À Skyrock, une bombe à retardement
Va acheter l'nouvel album Monument
On n'a
of bein' honest
I'm a crumpled up piece of paper lyin' here
'Cause I remember it all, all, all
Too well
Time won't fly, it's like I'm paralyzed by it
shit on your new album or what?
Yeah, I'm gonna kick some of that shit
But ah, partner I don't even fuck with the nine no more half
Man don't you
enough car factories to manufacture new vehicles sedans and vans
When they do make the whip you like ya chips ain't right,
By the time you could afford
ain't right,
By the time you could afford it the car ain't important
In the streets silent, it's just I and, cops keep firing in my environment
Yo SourMilk, what up brah justin Credible
I hear you on the radio every night brah
This one for LA leakers, turn me up
Shit, nigga don't be always
sins
Loudly run by those fuckers pulling up at his house, sticking their nose in it, left with no choice but to pull a machete from the boot of his car
wanna talk money?
Shit real that's all I could tell 'em
Just rap 'em up good so the dogs can't smell 'em c'mon
Brown paper bag (thank god for that)
[Dr. Dre]
Hey, hey, Snoop, what up? This your nigga, Dre
Hey, man, I was thinkin' I ain't said shit on your whole motherfuckin' album
So check it
your hands up in the air
Then I steer the 600 and
Flex through your hood
I get your money or girl, I take your car
Then I'm good
Call me the rap killer,
the rings
We lock the game
We got them things
Verse 1:
(Mack 10)
I got 30 cars, lived a rich life
Like a hundred hoes & like 3 wives
All guns & no
before the beat was laid down
Say it loud and proud it's the NPT
Big up to Corpa road Maesglas and Maindee
This is my rap album not yours and this is
That's how D12 get fucked up
(Hey, I like your records)
But my album ain't dropped
(Dr. Dre's my favorite)
Bitch, get off his jock
Got a backstage
dude
Ridin' through, yeeky on my lap, cars back to back
Nigga run up, he heard, "Blatt"
He gon' die if he don't shoot back
And there's so many niggas
I'm Falling
This is how I wrap my conscience up, moe
It's like I'm stuck in this utopia, moe
With a fascinating vagina to me, moe
It makes me think I
need it cause it's good for ya soul
That what this about, Yung B Da Truth
A Story, Everyone Hates…
What's up world?
Did you miss the kid?
Well, it's
played in mind
It be fucked up
Cause I just be saying I'm fine
And they like where the album at
I can barely remember how to rap
It's crazy how that shit
Sketching on a pad
Writing Poetic Justice
Like Lamar
I said I’m fed up
Like life stock
Ing you around
In my car
Drivin by ya
Crib slow like a drive by
Oh
empty so it's not funny
Fill it up a little more, honey
Need to be approved by the greatest
Coming up, yeah, I'm the latest
If you need that money go
fuck it up with money and pussy, where’s Oprah.
You get a car, and you get a car. You get a car, everybody gets a car.
You may not know how to drive, but
pretty low
But them niggas ishomos like the maxwell video
I got 2 albums and 2 cars
Now bitches on my dick cause of chico debarge
Thugged out's 1st lady
Cowards, you gonna learn to respect power
We burn by the hour, one burst the Remmy got us
Crank shit, Shawshank Redemption scholar
Roll up, based
Oooh aaah...Album three y'all...
Oooh aaah...Blue
Oh i like what you do
Take the time out tonite,
Let me hear you say ahh
And we can take it
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