Lyrics:
It is not about lyrics anymore
It's about a hot beat and a catchy hook
If we gotta dumb down our style and A-B-C it
Then so be it, 'cause nowadays
youngsters
Who gon shake some how the fuck you say you
Trappin’ but ain’t make none?
I made a bag off this
Rappin’ who gon take some?
Baby Joe yeah that’s my
of sense, pass the biscuits please
There's five more acres in the lower 40 I've got to plough
And mumma said it was a shame about Billy Joe, anyhow.
Seems
mind
It took me fifteen beers to get here
I don't know how many more till I leave
Take my change in tears and drink fifteen beers
Well I rolled
It is not about lyrics anymore
It's about a hot beat and a catchy hook
If we gotta dumb down our style and ABC it, then so be it
'Cause nowadays
where we leaving many cases
Running 'round, man, but we never catch no cases
Give a fuck about what you say, kicking it with like two babes
Top off
coming out my closet
And nothing anybody does can stop it
Dear Mama
I'm sorry they call me Big Papa
But I'm so damn cute all these ladies want to
Take
Caesar, sir.
C: (salutes) Hail Caesar.
If it's not done by sunrise, I'll cut your balls off.
B: (very reliefed) Oh thank you sir, thank you sir, hail Caesar
to coming to todays session.
DEBBIE:
OK, great. Tom, what about you?
TOM:
Well
she makes these great chocolate chip cookies like you get at Joe Joe
attend to that
And you can take that vest off cuz
Imma put em in ya hat
Point blank walk up ain't never
Did a drive by
Catch a nigga slippin and let
it, he's not lyin'
But what about the house, man? It's not mine
You should take it easy
("This gonna be fun in fact
It's gonna be better than fun")
shame about Billy Joe, anyhow
Seems like nothin' ever comes to no good up on Choctaw Ridge
And now Billy Joe MacAllister's jumped off the Tallahatchie
chasin' clout (come on)
Shit corny, even Fat Joe had to call him out
You mad she fuckin' Nelly nigga that's what it's all about (haha)
Stacy Dash dumb
the jar take a fork beat it like Ike Turner
Hit it hard til it lock then take the Pyrex pot off the burner
Let it sit til it dry take a razor cut it like OT
a fiend for this rap
Thing since Ra was no joke
On point like I shot it wit a scope (psssh)
I got it and it's dope
I gotta take this game by the throat
sign my shirt?
[Violent J:]
Hehehehehehehehe, yeah
I remember school, hoes back then were like "Joe Bruce ewwww"
Years passed by, and look I'm
sign my shirt?
[Violent J:]
Hehehehehehehehe, yeah
I remember school, hoes back then were like "Joe Bruce ewwww"
Years passed by, and look I'm
never had a lick of sense, pass the biscuits please
There's five more acres in the lower forty I got to plow
And Mama said it was shame about Billie Joe
massa
Me yɛ guy roff
Yɛ no yenni hwee, yɛ nya kakraa nsu'a we dey chop all
Why dem dey call me suicide?
Man I pull up with the top off
When I ball it's
it
Pay attention to Prince and pushin' everything about to pump it
I got Bobby by the pound, Whitney by the key
DJ Screw by the gallon, bitch
Who wants to break the news about uncle Joe
You remember uncle Joe
He was the one afraid to cut the cake
Who wants to tell poor aunt Sarah
Joe's run
across my collar, does it purr?
All these pimps is hysterical
I think they full of scare
Passin' by 'em in the V twin
Ghost-ridin' the blur
And rejection
what you want
This ain't special, baby, this is fun
This ain't special, tell me what you want
This ain't special, baby, this is fun
Drop it off
Wage and spend it
Or how about telling kids to take
Every pill while they stealin'
And telling them to rob and kill so
They all end up in prison
Or how
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