Lyrics:
good
Yeah
Yeah
Guess you ain't know
Cause I'd never show
I'm on the road
Tryna get that Doh (Tryna get that Doh)
Gang only 4 of us out here
But we move
and four chords repeated
Completed by a relatable lyrical concept about an ex or something
This isn't for the masses
It's for the
musically analytical
So
put E before the D, 'cause that's all you on
You on Pac's dick (bitch), you a replica, guy
If he was still alive, you would never get by (for real)
you how to rap
Den Show it off
And break you off
Is what I enjoy
Why u actin tough
Can't compare to us
I heard yo rap
It ain't enough
That shittt whack
can deliver
And ya sucka M.C.'s, to us ya a minus
We dominate the charts 'cause we are the world finest
Kings, who sat and heard Doug E. Fresh
And ya
(I'm so hood)
If you not from here you can walk it out
And you not hood if you don't know what I'm talking 'bout
I'm so hood
Trick Daddy, T-Pain,
dearly
Daddy holler if you hear me
We ran trains on tricks pulling off the rail B
Tse monate tse bothloko ha di fele
I'm just praying this life thing don't
I am trouble in the flesh, you can't see me with the Hubble
We ain't wishin these niggaz good luck, go get a clover
This Bun B, it's "B.E. 3," this
friend
And next kin 'cuz you let s-e-x win
You mean to tell me you can fight this land
With brightness and walk the path of the righteous man?
Yo, I
is what we need for new human contact
Not even your own server can save you
We all caught up in the web is so true
No GPS what will you do?
(No e mails
nothing, nothing gon' save us now
Well, there's broken silence
By thunder crashing in the dark (crash in the dark)
cnd this broken record
Spin endless
Broke another ten for the Bread Winner Brick Gang
Popping up pregnant, sIlly bitch tryna trick Gates
Start selling pussy, maybe that'll get your
tight with' no strap
Busta's waitin' up fo' her return get no haps
She come back with' tricks turnin' for show taps
So when I come back into yo' town
and every Wednesday night I would be
At Crestmont Church of Christ, just my daddy and me
But I know he didn't love me, because I was raised by the streets
up-and-comers
The ones that had deadbeat daddies and well-to-do mommas
But not well enough to keep 'em from us
The ones that were fighting in class who might
doesn't see; therefore, I spoil
I trick, I fall, run up in raw
I love her with all my heart
Every vein, every vessel, every bullet lodged
With every
Now we're gon' get ourselves together
(Of the band that's spelled S-T-E-T)
No B.S. allowed
(Prince Paul)
[ Daddy-O ]
Let's get this straight -
see-s-s-see, muthafuckin nigga, gon' try to trick me,
Outta some change dat I don' already muthafuckin made
& it happened to be some change, dat I don' put
energy with friendly enemies. Trick wit these chicks and we just addin to they trauma, aggie from my daddy you got that phatty from your mama. I thought
boys her type, yeah, she love this (damn)
Talk shit, swallow spit, she grab the dick, then do a magic trick (woo)
Everybody and they daddy want
me extorted by the FED. but I do really care cause it's all culture wars/they justify themselves by exterminating poor/They justify themselves cuz
the balance, watchin everything that we touch
But yeah I see the D stuck in the V-S-E-and-G truck
They watchin us, plan on knockin us, threw binoculars
it all inside
Celebrate me if I die tonight
Killed by parasite
The descendants of the race type
Rat running till I tear calves at the red light
Stretch
trial while in my intertube, Tour de Force
Tied so I am not the daddy
Had to move the club all by myself 'cause I ain't had no caddy, gladly
Didn't
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