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The boy walked into
Into the road
Because he was hit by
Hit by the bus
He's got the 'ump
Emergency Tax
Wake up, wake up, wake up
One, two, one, two
We dedicate this one to the hip-hop culture y'all
Brought to you by the world famous Wake Up Show
and done that
Ask yourself is that one or two straps nigga
Yeah this is my hood
If you ain't from there man it's all good
But you'll get shot down get it
the more I lash
Who breeds these niggas? That’s all I ask
(Sheesh)
Full speed, with the pedal thru the floor I mash
Not tryna lose y’all, my cruise off,
incendium
Found the flow
Now I'm burning low
Got a project for the poet
Big album you know it
Timeless, I'm like that
Name a couple rappers that that rap
real
Thinking I'm gone be some, started working on a project sounding just like lil pump
I was influenced by the SoundCloud era, I wouldn't be here
as gods
That's the dumbest shit I've ever
Heard in my motherfuckin' life
You need to set the fuck down somewhere (Ahh)
(Um, on this new album I've
Got uh
dandy
Now picture wisdom this intense inside of ghetto fences
That judge the language and the wisdom that was taught by pennies
That came from mothers
celebrated the release of his highly anticipated album last week
Remaining in the Top 20 of the Billboard charts for two exciting weeks
Becoming the first
hope for my legacy (Listen)
My legacy
Took a break from the MONSTER, but that’s where I began
Now I’m in album two, and I’m feeling like a champ
Throw my
Project, I stay by the railway
I stood on the block, then I got me a spot
Now my daughter go shop for some Chanel frames
Trackin' device on the back
had the master plan
I'm in the caravan on my way to Maryland
With my man Two TECs to
Take over this projects
They call him Two TECs, he tote two TECs
to give up
You repeatedly suck
You in the league of a duck
You a measly schmuck
If you was speedily struck by a GMC truck
I wouldn't give one flying
playing by himself, man
Five, four, three, two, one
playing by himself, man
Five, four, three, two, one
playing by himself, man
Five, four, three, two, one
playing by himself, man
Five, four, three, two, one
of Al Capone
Gun POW to the dome
And split the bone, wig blown off the ledge
By the alledged, full-fledged, sledge RZA edge
One dose of my feroc(ious)
South Beach to Biscayne in The Kaseya,
The Heat gonna see ya, I wouldn't wanna be ya! ("Yeah-yeah!")
Full Chorus:
cyyyo! ("cight")
It's a Wall 2
from the flo' two sets of hoes
K west to go
Let me talk on this let me walk on this
Mark Spitz extra clips of hollow tips
I'm full throttle with Chicago
thought or have to try
To calm it down, let it go, staying up and staying low
Wish I got four-eighty minutes every night with full control
And I'm
Wishing
another
cnd every drink in the place was full the night Pat Murphy died
cs Mrs. Murphy sat in the corner pouring out her grief
Kelly and his gang came
feel like I felt about 2 years ago
My days are the same, they goin' by slow
I don't go to sleep, I'm hearin' the birds cry
I don't give time to haters,
Mista Don't Play though
Raised in the projects so I pat them pockets
My rhymes be like nines when they shoot off like rockets
Straight to the cranium
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