Lyrics:
drink and drive and crash
Try get your life on track
Try get your life on track
Try get your life pon track
Don’t be a Michael Jackson
Two different
must be crazy, nigga
Onе song for my deluxe is all I need to do
These puppies barkin'
They done bit off more than they can chew
My album just dropped
I'm
Oh, No
Don't me up on the myspace flippin out
Trippin with strippers you think I'm digging out
Me sayin that "I'll never be taken by the hands
need me to join the fight, girl
I'll be there right by your side
Oh, lean on me girl, I'm
Rock steady, I'm rough and ready
Nobody will make us run
Rock
Freck, yeah I get dirty
I'm the best, hands down, like six-thirty
[Paul Cain]
Look
Like Michael J. Fox, I got +Family Ties+
Posing us can't be wise
corn
I'm so violent and sick in the head
I can't tell if I want to kill my ops or fuck 'em
Zaza got me feeling like everything going to be alright
on, Kermit the Frog (21, 21)
Michael Vick, number seven, I'm a dawg (big dawg)
Ratchet bitches wanted Frenchy's, not Philippe (yeah)
That's
attached
I turned in all my rap chips I'm earning my bachelors
By dating all the models and actresses
I'm learning all the potholes in every single barrio
good return
I tried to take her
I even tried to break her
She said, I ain't for takin' won't you ever learn
I want you, I need you, I gotta be near
and bounce around, now do the brown
Rock it, pop it, don't stop it, I want to knock it, yeah
Open up and lemme come inside, take me on that donkey ride
I
who doing the most
I don't need to brag and boast
I'm out on the road
I don't rock Gucci or Prada
White T that's props to my father
I had to learn
Styles P Talking:
"Yo I rock the fuck out.
I don't know bout everyone else"
Verse 1 - Styles P
Whatever we don't make, we gona take mofucker.
Get
autograph
Swear to God nigga! Swear to God!
I'm sure his ass won't make a confession
But they can tell by your facial
Expression it's not a lie
You can't
understand all the hate
I can't be around nothing fake
I'm a goth star by the way
So alone when I'm gone up in space
Im going to get this bread like a cake
You
you keep it 100, 100, 100 when you're round me
Girl, when you come around me
Time to keep it 100, I'm a boss chick but he run it
No Michael Kors just
the streets
When hip-hop was just cuts and beats
I seen Wildstyle, dug the scene
I want to be an MC, rock, rock on, know what I mean?
I started crashin'
Do you love me
Do you love me not
Why you cappin
When you know
This motherfucker hot
Is I'm wack
Well I can see it
Make ya hips rock
Don't stop
Wop
To My Hustle Man I Ain’t
Eva Gona Stop!
Excuse$ Are Worthless
Yeah, Homie Kick Rocks!
You Got To Get Up, Get Out And Get Something Off Top!
something that ain't tangible
Now I'm 'bout to hand it to the homie Michael Rocks, hear what he saying to you
Take a trip, took a molly out with Banco
you keep it 100, 100, 100 when you're round me
Girl, when you come around me
Time to keep it 100, I'm a boss chick but he run it
No Michael Kors just
or be a man a forget it
I know I said a lot stupid shit but do I regret it
Nah, y'all can kiss the cheeks of my ass if offended
I'm gettin' sick of these
pollinated by the "Be"
Pac called it the rose that rose from concrete
How do you define divine that finds street?
"Hip bop," the color of my leaves
Not
wanna own a casket this soon
Get at the bitches, nigga, bump to the boom
The ladies love me cause I love myself
I'm like an age, by no wine in time
Chilly B
And I'm a surefire, pure blooded bonafide house rockin' Jam-On Production MC
If you want the best, come put me to the test, and I'm sure you'll
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