Lyrics:
whiskey and bad company first made a wretch of me,
Oh young men, a warning by me take and shun all piracy.
John Roberts and Tony Barrand sings The Flying
I been hot since the birth of my soul
Trust when I found out it was already sold
It's a plus to know every word is worth it's weight in gold
So I
see, monkey do
I'm comin' with black gloves to snub his old chunky, too
African gold dentals, iced out medals
I seen niggas get murked by the heels
monkey do
I'm comin' with black gloves to snub his old chunky, too
African gold dentals, iced out medals
I seen niggas get murked by the heels
broodies killas Got a hundred hittas right outside
Say the word and they ready to slide
Body count up in the city
Got the Opps trying to run and hide
hundred spokes chrome
Knock off some malt liquor by the malzatof
Don't gotta floss, huh, ain't that the truth
Flyin' in boobies, silver six hundred coup
to being something
You can tell by the way I keep it humble
Blacksheep black guns black fist black that black gold black is how we all exist
We've been
I'm in a jungle
Lions, tigers and gorillas and shit, nigga
It's a lot of monkey ass niggas out here too
How to hustle nigga
Rules, laws, strategy
today
Don't know which car I'ma drive today
Promoter just brought me 200 grand
And I'ma count it by hand all hundreds with both eyes closed
I've got
Holding on, I’m hanging and reaching out like I do monkey bars,
This week I bought me some new money jars,
Last year had to get a new manager,
This
of that brass monkey on some drunkie shit
You R&B fake rappers suck a monkey dick
I'm from back in the days
with the Christmas for haze
on my back,
Born of a fallen rib
From the monkey's womb
Overcooked by cathode rays
Evolved to consume
100%
100%
100%
100%
Eating from the butcher's
Of that brass monkey on some drunkie shit
You, R&B fake rappers suck a monkey dick
I'm from back in the days with the Christmas
For haze on my back,
brass monkey on some drunkie shit
You, R&B fake rappers suck a monkey dick
I'm from back in the days with the Christmas
For haze on my back, stripped out
feelin' like it, dropped 100 on the Audemars
Cash for gold, I got a pot gold, look like leprechaun
I be hittin', hidin', run up, nigga, on Barry Bonds
This memory loss ain't gon' be temporary
Who really look like The Hustla? Me or him?
I done made a $100, 000 off a Chirp
You know that Nextel phone with
(Chorus:)
I like the finer things/
Gold chains black diamond fangs/
Don't play no silly games/
Throw the paint on a range/
I like the finer things/
guy to you a dead guy
Fuck your chest
I'm aiming at your head now (head shot)
I've got a hundred sitting in
The clip for you, actus
You niggas talking
know a few
'There are 8 million stories' and they're all made up by you
That's a lie
Yo what else think when Rush, man
Gives you the biggest medallion
there be Tolls still left to pay
If there was a road to heaven
Made of gold or made out of clay
Would the Angels wave me up the hill
Or in my
to God, I guarantee he send it back
Multiply it by a hundred times, y'all remember that
That's just a little jewel to get the monkey off your back
Uh,
Born of a fallen rib
From the monkey's womb
Overcooked by cathode rays
Evolved to consume
100%
100%
100%
100%
Eating from the butcher's
calm, let me move like Rahmadan
Speak one word then you're gone, drop like Hiroshimo bombs
Creation of this playing made by 36 Chambers
It's death by
All my ice and all my trees, all my bitches in love with me
Rock star life, the life we lead, surrounded by rock stars
My niggas rocking gold like
Discuss these made of gold by 100 monkeys Lyrics with the community:
Report Comment
We're doing our best to make sure our content is useful, accurate and safe.
If by any chance you spot an inappropriate comment while navigating through our website please use this form to let us know, and we'll take care of it shortly.
Attachment
You need to be logged in to favorite.
Log In