Lyrics:
Listening to Britney
Her new album
Back to the Noughties
I went from 8 to 18
Everything from a nightmare
To Beyonce sweet dreams
Moved from Brisbane
I don't know none of these guys
The realest niggas in the city
These bitches there, they rolling with me
'Cause all the realest niggas they in
extra large, in charge, Your bars are medium
This beats the spice of life to strike the strife and tedium
I'll roast you vegetables alive, the temp 425
still ridin' beach cruisers
Dude, I see through you, 'cause you're plastic
Bring the beef to you, put the heat to your vlastic
Fuck the last album, this
by
No policemen, no homicide, no chalk on the streets
No reason for nobody's momma to cry
See I'm a good guy, I'm tryin' to stick around for my
(DJ Clue)
The Professional
Part Two
Coming real soon!
New shit! Crime life!
Memph Bleek!
Cease!
Ja!
(Memphis Bleek)
Nigga, picture me hot,
I just made a meal, like fuck a deal And I'm dressed to kill, I gave em hell
They wanted me to fail, like take a L Smokin' on that face mask, he love
to the Streets album
We have so many entertainers
I would like to welcome to the stage right now
Allure, Case, Common Sense and The Firm's very own AZ
Come
of a life
Ik ben op betable's hime, met die flex ben ik ook levels te high
Day ones, nog steeds met dezelfde guys
Money is clean en m'n hands sanitized, yeah
(Drop the fucking album!)
(Bro, you've been talking about this album for months, when are you going to drop it?)
(Seriously, si-six, seven months
dream
They do
Glad I'm still not
What world?
I create when I dream, in my life when I die
Fix that tie
When I die
Fix that tie
When I die
Fix that tie
I'm aware that my artistry different
I'm aware that my heart is by my cuff link
Though I'm living a life with a lot of plush things
I'm living a life
Felon, fights behind me on the intersection
Sex and drugs my anthology on perfection
Dress superb admired by conspirists
Who wanna try me but ain't high
I won't eat a soul
But fine with kids losing theirs
Making my clothes
Trust, I'm not the good guy
Done shit nobody knows
For real though
Oh, I gotta
And I can go show off my rocket powered solid gold Benz
I tell ya life is no much nicer with invisible friends
"Record an all-banjo Falco tribute album
needs (Jesus, Lord)
Sittin' by myself, I'm just thinkin'
About all I've been through, I wish I was dreamin' (Jesus)
Man, it's hard to be an angel
needs (Jesus, Lord)
Sittin' by myself, I'm just thinkin'
About all I've been through, I wish I was dreamin' (Jesus)
Man, it's hard to be an angel
what you see in the streets
Despite what you influenced by, the life of crime has many downs
A little bit of ups, and everything you do got
be telling lies if i said i never lie
Bitch it’s beddy-bye this shit is written by a different guy it’s not a christian guy
But he seeing shit up in
eyes
My name is not the sky
Even Igbo guy go holla maka why
War slays with venom
When I spit em up in your cerebellum
When my album drops
Hurry up to get
dream, you a weapon
Step in the cypher, know the beef real
Your life at stake, ages with each meal
Real estate of mind, you need equity? Let the beat
now I ain't fucking with a bitch ass hoe
Drills arnt my thing but this album I'll put it aside
Imma fly high and then glide by I will never die
Gunshots
doin' 25 to life is a roadblock
Welcome to my last album, Nip, time to close shot
Twenty million dollars actin' broke, nigga (broke, nigga)
All you
by
But when I look back
Son, it's hard to explain
Not a thing I'd do different
But I'd do it again
What a life
What a
What a life
Told my mom
I won’t
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