Lyrics:
Still don't know who you niggas be mistaken for
I'm the candidate they would endorse
Word on the ballot, I want my oval office all on the 80th floor
a believer, peep all the souls you earnin’.
What lies ahead is endless, fog gates can’t withstand oval serpents.
Damaged Goods has a ring to it.
Crank those
know
The lonely road up will go
To no ovals
Go see his show, fo sho
I suppose
The most quotable, huh
That's just the shit that's inside me
Isn't it
might only like one song on the album
But shit that's one more song that you like than you did before
Listen to my shit give it a chance
Don't just put it
was just meant to be a album not a statement
It was meant for entertainment
But its more than just that
Its our placement to find our escapement
and hopeful
To how's he from a sleepy town
With eyes both wide
So soulful
I know
The lonely road up will go
To no ovals
Go see his show, fo sho
I suppose
Harold Melvin sample
I played it for Hip over the phone
He's like, "Oh, yo that shit is crazy
Jay might want it for this compilation album he doin'
by the boatload?
Doing him a favor when I'm rockin' out later
Alligator on my shoes and boots
And new suit mean new recruits, ya dig?
('Cause you
I'm a young Hova, nigga
My office is oval, nigga
I step out that bitch like, "What's happenin'?"
Me and that little bitch I was nappin' in
Time
plain
Old black extensions
Just a T-shirt about carbon
"I always thought that by the time
I put out a third album, i would want
To come back to natural
She wanna ride, side by side with me
I know how to roll, she can get high with me
She do the most, but she not tired of me
She so emotional, she
No one ever do it like me when I say shit
Rap so good I think of giving up my day shift
Dropped my last album that shit was for the ages
So now I
position of number 19. Hmmm... Not alot of
people remember that. But, I do! Cause I played on them! Hah! Si! Now look, Murders in the Rue.... Oh by
the way,
the freedom they'd save
On the TV broadcast they said it won't last
All over by Sunday consigned to the past
The clean-up starts Monday despite the bomb
escaping the penitentiary they hid us in
The kid has been fitted to quit and then spit it and shit again
But I became noble and well-rounded like an oval
yeah)
Ten, by ten, by ten, only three of us
And we passing women, like we passing drinks, can't compete with us
Rum pum pum pum little drummer boy
We just
Live by the code, die by the code
Never been a hoe, bury me before I sell my soul
Live by the code, die by the code
Never been a hoe, bury me
you're offended by this shit
I'm saying "Good, fuck you"
Tsk, I'm just playing
Really no, I'm serious, I'm not
(I'm dead-ass serious, I swear) I'm
zvědavý kdy poslední album kdy poslední bars dopíšu
Vím že jsou tu lidi co by mě bodli dali do břicha dyku
Nemám čas na problémy tak prosím tě zavři už píču
This the greatest fucking album you gon listen to
This the greatest fucking album you gon listen to
This the greatest fucking album you gon listen
with the shrimp like you know
Oh damn almost got ate
Got ate by a snake and I almost got ate
I'm a shrimp it's the end of the album of the album
swear my lyrics won’t be half as bad
I’ll write all the music
But the drums will still be played by Chad
Let me write Chili Peppers an album
Let me write
and goes
[Verse 1: Mase]
See the charm is global, the ice on my arm is oval
Money stacked in the back like it's Barnes and Noble
I know a girl
Don't let it pass by to a past time
(don't let it)
Let it pass by to a past time
(don't let it, naw)
Let it pass by to a past time
(don't let it)
Let it
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