Lyrics:
of music
When I'm happy some shit has
To happen that either pisses me
Off or that's very grave
It's a really personal record
– very different, content-wise,
Forfeit a kitten by the forks from the kitchen
With horsemen who drew the same symbols
Pitchforks waving out a grand theft four by four support system,
make more pressure
And so on and so forth, okay, I'll give your four more measures
And more records with more effort than ever before
I'm the youngin'
I'm gone?
I ain't got a nine to five I got a twenty-four-seven
That's right nigga no days off
I don't do this to get by with slick rhymes
No days off
thing
Yeah In days gone by she was all lit up like the 4th of July
Raised hell with the boys crushed their hearts like they were toys
She's got
of call
But the seas were rough
And the ice was tough
And they were hit with frozen squalls
By January's Ides
They were two hundred miles
From their first
pen
Its Compos Mentis with some five percent
It's by consent
I'm setting records
Set your bets
No second guess
You can check out my cassettes, what?
more money
Don't die on mе
I bought a crib in the sky (yeah, yeah)
Twenty-four seven, this bitch 'bout to die
(yeah, yeah, die)
Takin' the yanky, more
Rap-A-Lot Records based out in Houston, represents for us
OG style, they cars, ditch that 4 and too much trouble
Our squad is gangsta nigga, put it down for
dome, I hit quick as a pugilist
Ugh, ah, what's up? Now your eyes swoll'
Thought I went soft, cause my records went gold
(Sucker) Buster, you'se a -
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, what
Snoop double, D O G, what, mr. X to the Z, yeah, and Kurupt
The kingpin, DoggHouse Records takin over the shit in
technical difficulties
Please stand by"
[speaking in Spanish left untranslated]
Auto four six seven five four three
Equals, the levels, of nobody in this
Cut the light record when it's off
Want his head, get a reward when it's off
New plug on the drank, no cough
Real trap n*gga juug out the loft
These
knew you was jealous from the day that I met you
I upset you, cuz I get respect I bet you
I'm even liked better by your neice and nephew
Now you hate
Jason's Record Store lyrics
Standing outside Jason's record store it was 1985.
I had my Walkman on in under my am was a Ramones 45.
There's
Give me a record, I'll break it
Pick up the limit and takе it
All the way, ay, I'm not even halfway up
I'm movin' up thе food chain fast
I've assigned
Intro: Ershaw The Rabbi
Shout out
Shout out to Kayinima Records
Play me close
It's ersh at 30 000 Feet
Kayinima Records (it's Ersh)
Verse 1:Ershaw
then ran through the alley must have been a coward
No more hit 'em up like in the old days
homies scrab with Mack 10s and AKs
that's why I roll by
Full on sprint lookin' 4 wealth
Got us searchin' but not 4 our self
Not by our self but majority
24 hours not the authority
It's in your mind
4 your soul
to you, I can pull up, Bugatti on you (skrr)
Yeah, that's a million a tie, four million for four
I record in the livin' room, swingin' the door
Movin'
chart loser-track record proven let the wack never ruin our purpose to make an impact with the movement- if you rap better prove it until it’s just
of my shoes
They too timid to even make it a single minute
I was molded by the pain
Shit, I'm Bane, I was raised in it
You and me are not the same
I was
no head
Lately I've been getting becky
I just want the bread
Keep the peanut butter jelly
She walked up to me, I was by the bar
She like hello she
the money's in good hands, huh
Four rings like LeBron tatted on my dashboard
Fly shit, clean body tatted by the passport, huh
What I rap for? To push
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