Lyrics:
Man you hell of a pussy for
The shit you did last night
I could tell you nervous right now by
How you moving your hands right
Yeah please don't fuck
wealth of the world's eighty five richest people is equal to the three and a half billion poorest people
It's fantastic, and this is a great thing because
scratch, don't be
Fooled by my cartoony raps
I want you to doubt me that's
Gonna be your biggest mistake
When I snap back like I'm Rubber man called Luffy
Touching lives, even with this Glock
It gets too real
Ran on your man's, your mom is praying
God sends a chill
Out maneuvering, hoes still choosing me
I'm
trust in the Lord but tether your Chevy Nova
I'm spittin' this shit for closure
And God is my witness, so you could get it from Hova
For all you
of music (those who hear your voice)
(Liken you to an angel) think of their cry of undying support
Is this her Angel of Music? (Follow where the limelight
ideal
If a man is working toward a predetermined goal and knows where he's going, that man is a success
If he's not doing that, he's a failure
Success is
Trackateering Music
Man, y'all did it with this one here, y'all
People love to use that quote
"I'm doin' it for the culture"
But what culture is that
, 5, 6, 7, 8
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9
Man'll ride on any guy that tries to violate
Put that nigga to sleep like
Why's that guy awake?
Now watch them
In a world to big
I ain't trying to make it quick
Would manifest in the mirror as a kid
This is as clear as I get
You form your opinions
About what I
Yo man, I got this def Rolex watch, man
A hundred and thousand watch, man
I sell it to you for four hundred
You got eighty?
Dig dig this, man
I got
near a studio in your life
You see, disrespect is your last resort
You're like Howard [Name], you never played this sport
But you're always talkin
out, I'm the C-A-S-A-N, the O-V-A
And the rest is F-L-Y
You see I go by the code of the doctor of the mix
And these reasons I'll tell you why
You
what I'm sayin' is
In case you ain't know and in case you ain't heard
And if you want us to set it just give me the word
This one goes out to my
There's sixteen ounces to every pound
Some shit is 'bout to go down
Got sixty-four of 'em
That's four of 'em, smoke somethin'
Burn it down, this shit
uh
Man see I remember when I was like fifteen years old and my dad took me to the studio--
I know this is random I'm just trying to take you guys
of the Pageboy is silent -
which makes my casting, in a word . . . ideal.
I shall watch the performance from my normal seat in
Box Five, which will be kept empty
When I come back, that's it
You see a flash in the sky, it's that nigga, I
When I land, you wack niggas die
And your casket is your last hit
You wack
The music is magic, what is this madness?
The stanzas are rites of passage
Your left brain habits become your baggage
The masses become savage, roaming
I use that
Machete to Butch Cassidy by the way
His two faggot ass sons' names
Is Shane and Cassidy bang! That's blasphemy
That's the main catastrophe
Power
And knowledge
Only the ironic thing is your two conflicting ideals that
You appear to deal with as your absolutes is that mankind is god alone
on the dress and break her for her purse
Ten wraps and a rubber band
(Gouda)
Three or four more in my other hand
(Gouda)
Five, ten, fifteen, twenty
(Gouda)
Shawty want to come back over cause she seen man them in four by four
046 getting dead-nominations till I be forty-four
Ay
Lil bit this
Lil bit that
Shouldn’t be any mothers crying in their beds
One,two,three,four,five,six dead
Why is there all this bloodshed
Rather spread a culture of love instead
Because
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