Lyrics:
n****s scared (scared)
I wanna thank god for blessin' me
To hit you wit this recipe
Yeah you got more bread than me
B**** but I know you scared
of eighty-thousand feet
Now, one more rule durin' launch time
Yo please observe the no smokin' signs
We'll hit warp speed, travel fast through a time port
Then,
It's not usual, the game be, all up on some South shit
Straight west coasting, you can tell by my outfit
Red 'nati fitted, "Blood in, Blood out"
Man I feel like master P
Tank chain corn rows and shit
Man I feel Hector "El Father" rapping with
Jay Z
Rompediscotecas had that album in my
go, thankful to Jesus now watch this Mary go
Cold wit this shit but I'm from Arkansas not Toronto
I hang out wit gangstas and I shouldn't they packin
and his collaborations with other artists. He has released several successful albums and has had numerous hits on the Billboard charts.
Benjamin Franklin
in 550's
Album on the way, sorry for the wait
Plates Short 8, plug say, "sorry for the weight"
Momma pray Hail Mary full of grace
I'm in the field like
Cassidy
Album :
Submitted by : Daniella Roman ~*A.k.A Bubbles*~
Corrected by :
Rated : 6.3 (3 votes)
INTRO
R.Kelly:
Ladies and gentlemen, you are
[Lil' Kim]
.. My Aunt Dot
left a glock and some blood on my sheets
Told me clean the shit up, then she hit the streets
Even though I'm her niece,
on
Tuck it by the waist like thick bitches putting a skirt on
Oh, ima country ass thug ass nxgga
It is what it is fuck what it was ass nxgga
Raised
they take the album
Take it home and start sweating
Why? Well, it's simple
To them it's kind of vital
To take KRS-One's title
To them I'm like an idol,
you know we here to win, I might take your bitch and Might as well go make a demon kid
Brodie is a clown, it's like he got made up by Stephen King, ay,
off these n*****
When they try to play the kid
Another hit song being sang by his kid
Don't mean to bring the children into it
But since you spoke
But get me on this mic
And I strike like boom
Bring you dynamite
From nine to noon
This style you like
Well my album's arriving soon
People didn't know
the dominant
Your honor this, cut your mic, I'm in control of all of this
Welcome to the 2nd album where we find ourselves surrounded
By some people venomous
And expect them not to know what a woman's clitoris is
Of course, they're gonna know what intercourse is
By the time they hit fourth grade
They've got
a technical foul
A technical foul
If you touch the thermostat
You'll get hit with a bat
'Cause that's a technical foul
(You will feel my wrath)
If your
is caked in tricomes
Blow the smoke then I roll
I ain't stoping till that smoke hits the percolator
Let it bubble up
I want it milky and I want it
and fam fed up by me boy
Knock, knock shit, bet they lock the door
Engaged but headed 'round divorce
She caught it, check my child support
Make a nigga that
By a car when I attempted
To run to the ice cream truck
It wasn't all well and fare
Although my Mother was on welfare
My father was too busy
Running
Do you remember walking to the water? Surrounded by empty summer homes
Some awful nu-metal album, blasting out of broken headphones
We'd wind up back
My Aunt Dot left a glock and some blood on my sheets
Told me clean the shit up, then she hit the streets
Even though I'm her niece, she copped me
him well, get him high, he might fuck around and die
I guess you know by now who's number one
Brooklyn, Brooklyn that's where I'm from
(Number one)
down
Take you on these trips tell me how it sound (how it sound)
And we don't smoke dubs we smoke it by the pound (by the pound)
Yeah
Kick back got my
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