Lyrics:
in the club tryin to duck us (WHAT?)
And if you walk by nigga, I'ma knock fire nigga
from yo' ass, you can come try nigga (HEY!)
In the hood, all
he asked me for a date
And Mrs. Taylor sure seems to use
A lotta ice whenever he's away
And Mr. Baker, can you tell us
Why your secretary had
roll
One sunday morning in a driving rain
Around the curve came a passenger train
In the cabin stood Casey Jones
Bold engineer but he's dead and gone
Mrs
you wan' it
First these hoes don't wan't it now they only here to Michael Jones it
Mama say you live next door to the devil
You live in the moment
the way you love me huh?
It's alive its alive rounds kill the eyes
I had to bring the bitch back like Frankenstein
I push weight but Gucci don't
employ
I shoot 12 rounds, now Jr. Jones Roy
Y'all so backwards, I don't do Backwoods, I'm a swisher man
8 in the mornin' you bouta get found by
distracted by the graphs.
In the resource room Mrs. Petorsky re-enforced me:
Raisins from her zip-lock bag,
And free time after my target behavior I was
You know where we at n****
You know where we be (we at da pit n****)
You know where we post
A lotta n****s hate me man fuck it
Mr4pound flashy
Not
. Leave-Her-At-Home-He'll-Take-Your-Ho
Mr. Stack-That-Dough
Young rich n-gga used to trap by the store, now taxed for the flow
Tell a rap n-igga, "I'm not feelin' you"
Stop frontin',
cases
I choose to be, tight up on my game like a pro
Smashin on these hoes, and makin tha big doe
Behold, mr. pookie slash rippla jones
I been livin like
bouta get found by a fisherman
Yeaa, you guys is bitches, little girls
And Mr. Smith & Weston wanna kiss ya pussy pearl
Tongue kiss an angel and spit fire
And snap back and battle my own shadow
Cus ya'll wack and all that
Bullshit ya talkin startin to get funky
Toss me the chunky, I'm a brew these punkies
Stir
back and forth, like a palindrome
Will they? Won't they? Oh, why don't they
A relationship didn't seem practical
And you know me, I'm Mr. Rational
Then
or discipline/ he was bigger than me/ n white by the way/ oh yeah I was the only black kid in the classroom again okay/ back to the teacher for the times I was in
In fifth grade
And start taking
Drumming lessons with Mr. Scott
And that dude
He started me
On the snare
With that
Blue and white book
It's called
And Mr Jones is getting hyper in the wings and
Debbie is just hanging on the telephone line
Timing is everything but time's a bitch
Sneaking up to pass
then. Eh? What do you mean,
stop pissing in the corner? Well if you'd let me out of this f'king room I wouldn't have to piss in the corner,
would I?
ass was Amazonian
Dab by the slab, got you feeling like it's opium
Xo, bad hoes they call me Diablo Esco
Unless it's money me no hablo
Still wish I
And shouldn't widow Jones be told to keep
Her window shades all pulled completely down
Well, Mr. Harper couldn't be here
'Cause he stayed too long at Kelly's Bar
the spirals
And when I step into the booth, I perform like Michael
These niggas clout chasin' just so they can go viral
I speak street Gospel, I don't really
to Kennedy was beyond laughable.)
"Mr. Gorbachov, tear down this wall."
PRESIDENT RONALD REAGAN (to Soviet Prime Minister Michael Gorbachov, referring
trombone
Looking down on 'em like R.C. drone
Mr telephone man give 'em dial tones
I ask what would you do like John Quinones
If your girl got boned by a big
Alright Mr. Thanksgiving
It's for the money this time (Drama)
Howdy do motherfuckers, it's Weezy Baby
Niggas bitchin' and I gotta tote
hall
Everybody's looking for a crystal ball
Well I bought me a brand-new mansion
Built right in 2003
Mr. Jones sold it to me no money down
Signed
_Album_Cover.jpg/220px-Mrs._Mills_(All_Time_Party_Dances)_Album_Cover.jpg "Mrs. Mills")
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