Lyrics:
hat
For my bullshit... minute minute
[CHORUS]
She had the style of a beauty queen
And a smile of an angel
Make any man want to clip her wing
rock the v-neck tees, wrinkly jeans
Old people askin' me, "do you sleep in them jeans?"
I reply, "no, sir or ma'am, this is the style"
Big smile, I
been down for a minute now
There's none flyer, all the live wires in the ground
A young messiah, admired by entire town
Sun-fire, stay higher than
Until his blood bleeds
Past tense, back then niggas had some sense
BENZINO!
Your skills not equal
I got your busta tucked right by my nuts bruv [aha!]
I
a nigga ass, cause I roll with a gangsa style
Where was you at when I was on the ave, tryin' to get cash up/ (BIATCH!)
[Hook]
[Mini Hook] [Olivia Singing]
less if time flies by
Eighteen 'til I die gonna be eighteen 'til I die
Ya it sure feels good to be alive
Someday I'll be eighteen goin' on fifty
Five below, watch the headlights rush by
Monday morning, tired voices, cloudy sky
Dreams of sun lit hazy days
Silver screen won't you please take
and camouflaged in my six
50 dollars on my ?story bit?, I worry, worry style bitch
Even though my hostile spit on his mossburg grip
Quote it I spoke tank dawgs
Oooh
Black and orange stray cat sittin' on a fence
Ain't got enough dough to pay the rent
I'm flat broke but I don't care
I strut right by with
I used to swear I'd die alone
No one could fence me in
That wedding vows were out of style
And bands of gold don't fit
But she made me a believer
just di car dem waan wi steer
And di clothes dem waan fi wear, and di style inna wi hair
It ah mad dem (mad dem!!), Have di girls dem by di pair
the law on us
They want us in jails, with bails too high to bond, but am I the Don?
Shit, I'll be out by the morn', word bond
My game is on lock, till
I'm feeling you tonight, shorty
I see you looking fly, shorty
Big proof from the corner of my eye
Gotta let you know that I'm digging your style
get some real manner
My momma my Rosanna-anna, just me and my Joanna
Hey, pick up yo' stamina, hit 'em like wow
You know I love my style, I'm not
Houston, Slim Thug the Boss
The young Hogg out the North, that be running his mouth
Check my files, the Boss man do it G style
I live it write it,
I made this one for the brothers in the party
To find a hottie
And dance body to body
Step one: first you grab honey by the waist
Step two: then
how we kick it
In a brand new style
Take me downtown
It's where I wanna go
Everyone I know
Is going to my show
Take me downtown
Where
Say Stet!
"Funky" - scratched up
[Delite]
Now when I come wit it, wit style it prolific
No friction to our diction, strictly scientific
Before we
they tried to use her vocab, they sounded sloppy
She had a style, all her own, respectful and pure
I was sick in the head for her, and there wasn't
all the busta bitches from round me
So take it how you want to take it, i don't give a damn
I'm an asshole by nature, nigga this is who I am
[Hook -
I made this one for the brothers in the party
To find a hottie
And dance body to body
Step one: first you grab honey by the waist
Step two: then
a cold ass flow
Everytime he hit the studio, his beeper go off
He left the beef to get his cheese, by selling people that raw
With a pistol on his right
and bold B-boys of old
Many styles we hold, let the story be told
Whether platinum or gold, we use breath control
So let the beat unfold, intro on drum
Gleaming
Girls are screaming
'cause I'm arousing
My styles bring
___ kids, so how you look?
Ya drowning, and drained
The frame of being slain
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