Lyrics:
have slept for quite some time)
So who's left? Lady Gaga? Mess with the Bieber?
Nah, F with Christina
I ain't f- with either Jessica neither
Christina
I ain't fuckin' with either Jessica neither
Simpson or Alba, my albums just sicker than strep with the fever
Get the Chloraseptic, Excedrin,
looking for a friend
Maybe you could swing by my room around 10
Baby bring a lemon and a bottle of gin
We'll be in between the sheets 'til the late AM
Baby
And she cain't be fixed, so what if she yours?
We turn housewifes to everyday whores
Send 'em up in stores with the false ID
To get DVD's and big screen
and disco
I take cities by storm
Drop deep like hills in San Francisco
Cookout with hoodrats and fried chicken and Crisco
After dinner, girls come over in
mean Damicica, damn
Man I think I got ADD
I'm callin' you to say I think I've seen the light
Reg should come over right now and just sleep with me
I record fire, fire catches fire
Fire me fire man I'm burning up
Hot as flames fire, I'm on fire man
Mr. Fireman, come again?
I record dope dope
(And when I come over)
I'll get you right
(I will)
Get you right
(I will)
Get you right
We can do anything that you want to do
And before I go
If you live by the gun, die by the gun, yeah (yeah)
If you live by the gun, die by the gun, yeah (Bugzy Malone)
If you live by the gun, die by
Game would say
"Hi!"s name in that manner
Many years went by
Still no legitimate answer
Anyway, I put out a mixtape in 12th grade
Hub City threat, minor
scared?
Can you taste blood?
Turmoil
The seas boil
Diggin' graves
In the deep soil
I can show you if you ready
It can take over if you let it
Don't
the wind
There's no cell-y phone, so you can't phone home
Oh lord, here come those criminals maleek & jerome
("yo, who you know here, you got family over
(Jesus)
Yeah, yeah, hell yeah
Yeah, yeah, hell yeah
Yeah, yeah, hell yeah
Yeah, yeah, hell
Froze over, when you thought you could hold Yoda
to lay ya
(And when I come over)
I'll get you right
(I will)
Get you right
(I will)
Get you right
We can do anything that you want to do
Circuit's of all these other
Rappers you did the
DVDs you did the mixtapes you
Came up on mixtapes
Like every other underground rapper
In New York
I was
fifty
Can't you tell by my cut why I'm pimpin'
And if I hit one time she's limpin'
And if he trick one dime he's simpin'
'Cause we don't do it like
don't need PCP; we don't need flat screen TV's and DVD's
We need more knowledge of who we be
[Chorus]
Do we really know where the guns come from?
Do we
don't need PCP; we don't need flat screen TV's and DVD's
We need more knowledge of who we be
[Chorus]
Do we really know where the guns come from?
Do we
wood with wheel on
With a flyin' bitch some old gangsta shit
Flat screen DVD's smoking stank and shit
Ain't dat shit Sunday bull tank and shit
Top down
booties and big dreams
Christina Jaleesa Maria Celia
Bad bitches is all I need
You know shit get dangerous
Baby don't come to crib unless you got no
in shows
And I’m a fly nigga, might step out in a robe
Niggas know how I come through like Hov
Like BIG and I see y’all on that DVD
I’m on MTV, 'cause
any type of race is won at the end ,
Them Dey lead but tell them all to prepare, cas the speed I carry come easily go over take
Omor any song wey I
poverty, I know hunger
I'm the product of poverty
That is why today, I'm here at home to say
Whoever sees me over there must know
I come from Peddie,
about it when it comes to brew
I got tatts but thought sleeves were excessive
For fuckboys that dumb girls were easily impressed with
No ego never talk
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