Lyrics:
Good morning Ladies and Gentlemen
It's 9:13AM
Feels like a cool winter morning with a slight breeze
You've tuned into 91.9 radio and this is Gerry
do I entertain y'all with my disrespect?
Respectfully (Great John on the beat, by the way)
Lil Nas X gon' catch AIDS and die like Eazy-E (he is)
I heard your album and I don't believe a word of it
I think you're soft like that trick, Mother Hubbard
Fillin' the cupboard with gang goods
Like
l'album de ma vie
J'suis rentré dans ta tèss, y avait pas tant d’cadors
Les pules-cra vendent la mort, j'm'en fous d'tes ventes balourd
Drive by Aventador
It's 9:23 A.M
And uh, an idea
Summer feeling idea
Yeah, I don't know
You said keep it short, this is peach fuzz
Contact, couple months, then
Been working on your new album for two years strong
You still can't come up with the right song
You know what they say, "Study long, study wrong"
All
nuts, then I (yeah)
Check my ball hair (what?), make sure it's all there (yeah)
Then call the pallbearer (yeah)
It's Music to Be Murdered By again, why
crisis that I'm in
Don't chime in
Front block like a line men
No longer co-sign it
Album two, you'll get what that line meant
Clearing shit up just like my
This the Outro on the
Album Of The Year
When truth seekers meet gate keepers with loaded heaters
Haters never check us it's tricky like my Adidas
I'm sitting in the front seat
I close my eyes and smile so wide, I'll play some A$AP Rocky
Just the life of a little year nine
Muddy from some rugby
sung and recorded by the core 8 members, however a total of 26 feature across the entire album, with the ages ranging from 11 to 19
All profits
pouring myself in
Nine albums are dropped but the fire is
still burning
Now I am unwinding
Love the way I am grinding
At least I'm being my real self
There
copped that first and second album
Word up, y'all real troops out there, yoaw
[9th Prince]
Aiyyoaw, my lions run through club Cheetah, with rusty heaters
on UPN 9 and WB
Who 'Yes Massa' on TV
What ever happened to Wheezy? The Redd Foxx's?
Never got Emmy's but were real to me
Let's hear it, two for
is nothin' to play with
9 to 5 money is just as sweet as the grave shift
El presidenté, Blowbama, blow by ya
Chopper next to me in every picture,
ine
When I stand up in this booth nigga I'm actually 6'9
I react, you see kids cryin
I'm the monster they shout bout
Download your album, the mouse right
ones
By the time I was 19, 20
Had a few albums
And I was producing more
Even hooked up with a band
After we jammed
On a music course
Ironi, the name fit
a mil before my album hit the shelves
And I ain't talkin' bout no signin' bonus (uh-uh)
'Tics went platinum to remind ya homey
I'm not a restroom so
production's tight
Sometimes I might catch a severe case of writer's block
But by the end of the day you'll be on my jock
My name's malik my hobby's putting
I got an 80's ghetto blaster in my car
I wanna drive to a place so goddamn far
The week pass by, so many nine to five
Sunny days and music by my
on a stancin' ting, forever more I shall be the skankin' king
So if you wanna come hotel, don't waste time,
Only get one chance, don't get nine,
like cartel said
the nine-ten
I've been dropped more times than albums
Seen changes and how love sweetly turns sour
With time the wine is finer
We wine down and wind up
Looking
murfucka I'm leavin' "PLOUP PEERCH"
Cloud 9 Cloud 9 Cloud 9
Been workin' so Hard like 9 guys "WORK"
So the money multiply like 9 times "MONEY"
Bitch I often
tried to tell 'em
I just hope pretty soon that somebody smell 'em
My lyrics get deeper and deeper
Mack 10, twelve gauge, Tec-9 plus a Street Sweeper
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