Lyrics:
labels only props they get is in Saturday Night Live skits
Then off buildings for tryin to diss me this and that
Kidnapped they kids like I was starrin' in
flow local like New Jersey transit
And I can't stand it
And you'll need Teddy to unjam it when I cram it
I'm from N to the E
W A R K Newark NJ
to live and stay afloat
And raise the kids to get em out so they'll never know
Block hot as a sauna
It's going down, it's going down
Kinda hot
You know parents are the same
No matter time nor place
They don't understand that us kids
Are going to make some mistakes
So to you, all the kids all
influenced by the ghetto you ruined
That same dude you gave nothing, I made something doing
What I do through and through and
I give you the news, with
like I'm puff by the way that I'm dancing
Girls falling in line all the haters be glancing
Bought a new freezer Sip purp on an island
O's in the bank
And everyone should get along
Okay, children, quiet down, quiet down
Children, I'd like to introduce our new substitute teacher for the day
His
And everyone should get along
Okay, children, quiet down, quiet down
Children, I'd like to introduce our new substitute teacher for the day
His
Kid's On The Block wataha pizd
Drapieżne linie zawodowo wgrywam barsy
Musisz mieć refleks, by wyłapać tyle punchy
Gra jest zepsuta, ale to nie wina
cage
It's a new change on a new wave
Push me around, I'm not moving
Remember me?
I watched your whole castle crumble
Right by your side when you
for this
I swear I get it off the love
Louisiana nigga you can tell
By my mothafuckin' grammar
I swear I got 3 hoes with
Me just like I'm Santa
These
and my man Rick got millions of gold albums
(That's a lie) I'm gettin' cold money every day
(You're a liar)
You'll need a wheel barrow for all that shit in
to Florida City, Opa-Locka
By way to Overtown and look at this city
Open to Grove and the South Miami
Wedwood Highlear, look Eddie, look 'Bana
Some many ice
you up visibly
All in plain view so your cousin and kid can see
Then on the news see a dozen acquitted me
Would you recuse that good judge unequivocally
lucky, my God! Flight of Icarus in those grubby dirty by now horribly sticky little fingers and
hands and grubby palms, and oh what else is grubby, I don't
did and do shit that's better than new shit (what)
Fit for two clips (what)
The kid is a nuisance (yeah)
Aw man, he's inspired by his own gangsta
head your new mixtape and your album, shit was wack
Ain't nobody spending hard earned money on that!
I remember when they said that I paid for my views.
attacked in
Camouflage and from that, I got a hint of
The power of lyrics to encapsulate magic
Or to spread alarm
Now I have recorded three albums
A few days
told the new builder
Sold By Nette my Realtor
I'm grinding and hustling. Stacking it up to the lid
(Where the bag at) It's on the shelf
Been working too
This the Outro on the
Album Of The Year
When truth seekers meet gate keepers with loaded heaters
Haters never check us it's tricky like my Adidas
dandruff
I'm far from a new kid on the block, I hang tough
Was handcuffed to false pretense but they were out of luck
Released myself from captivity escaped
And you ain't got nothing to say (what!)
Well it's album number two right (yeah)
So you gotta let 'em know (that's right)
So do your thing (yeah)
Take
a highway star
I'm a highway star
Oh, yes I am, you mothers
Thank you. That's a new one, taken off Machine Head.
This is a song about...
Sweet child
And seeing John made me think of the Velvets
and I had been thinking about them
when I was on St. Marks Place
going to that new gallery those sweet new kids
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