Lyrics:
by the law
I got my own people coming to attack
But this is how it go in the hood when your black
Man this shit wack like a Joe Budden track
slidin' in my slips like
I'm Rick James' freak, freak
I'm havin' fun with ya son, uh
Ain't twenty-one, tell 'em don't
Need to come, uh
Way too young to get
the cars go by, roarin' as the breezes blow
Crazy lady, livin' in a bag
Eatin' outta garbage pails, used to be a fag hag
Said she'll dance the tango, skip
mean it is, but I also got a bum knee!"
"Mr. Mathers, the fun and games are over
And just for that stunt, you're gonna get some extra homework"
"But
the cars go by, roarin' as the breezes blow
Crazy lady, livin' in a bag
Eatin' outta garbage pails, used to be a fag hag
Said she'll dance the tango, skip
people could feel
Something...
Real
Starts recording and shares her story online
By the next mornin millions start feelin her new vibe
Labels at the table,
done?"
Your son got beat with the pole like a fucking bum
Yeah, like a fucking bum
I might hit your main bitch, make her fuckin' cum
The day a label try
of you bums you can get it
If you ain't know by now man I'm standing on business
I ain't come to fuck around if I said it then I meant it
Got a clip for
Teach niggas how to spend, stack the rest
Give blunts to the niggas under massive stress
Give every bum on the street cash to invest
And hope Harlem will
get out of it
Any and all should fall, many are small should call
Naughty By Nature the creator of all y'all
Show hope, show no hope and can't cope,
Backpackers pack there saddle on my penis
Best thing since sliced bread cut by Saukrates
Soul strut like Koreans with Bum Knees
Sy Wyld bring the beat like
bums watch your back for jumps
Caught before a fake twenty dollar bill
Get 'em son, we ain't the one
Politickin', purse vickin', sick of these
a Yankee, like a son of
Freedom, never had a slave
It's etiquette, you idiot
Spend time behind the line
Show sympathy to LA where the sun don't ever
bums watch your back for jumps
Caught before a fake twenty dollar bill
Get 'em son, we ain't the one
Politickin', purse vickin', sick of these
yo, yo, yo)
Once it's on, I come through, guns is drawn
Blam, blam, lungs is gone, sons will mourn
From dusk 'til dawn (uh), night time belongs
bother me, sort of heartened me
My niggas by the car with me, screwing 'round with authority
Bum rushed our way in the door, wage of a war
Waving
waters
Magic rain
Reindeer for the sleigh
Imagination - He gave em mysterious names
Poo Bum and Popa Pola
Masher and Boa
Powered by hocus pocus
Kicking
object
Spendin' fazools
Trips for your whole projects
Epcot Center, linens for ya bitches
Rolies for your dogs
Now we in the mall, slayed by his bitches
it by my lonely now I'm the big homie
But I'm his royal slickness, ghetto weakness, come Rick is
The one who expose cornball rappers with
fucking all this up
Running on these blocks scaring niggas sons
I'm not in that timing robbin niggas you a bum
Nigga get a life if you don't then you gon
real hard to go vegan,
It's hard when these media rappers is all lunches
I look around and see bums in abundance, by the hundreds
I can't believe that
live my life like a bum
Nooo
I hope you find out what you here for
When people die why we drop tears for
I'm overwhelmed by all these feelings that I
by sin
I got my first gold front from Ben
Eighty-nine, I was into Rakim
For dropping gems
Most niggas learned a lot from him
Grandma used to cook with
same thang game came when I left em
I do it by my lonely now I'm the Big Homie
But I'm his Royal Slickness ghetto weakness come Rick is
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