Lyrics:
ain't no where to dip, or to go
This for the gold, knowing every hit finna go
Swing with a force they could only wish to control
Better act like you been
splash
What you goin' do with that?
Everybody, everybody come on, dance
Everybody come on, dance
We ain't gonna put no more instruments on this
daddy's out of town so uhh, you can fuck around
It's okay to check in that Motel 6
$59.95, not a cent more for that dirty-ass hoe
Yeah, stop by that
tell the people to move back farther
I'm at the finish line and ain't no drill
It's so far behind that it don't got the brains to quit it
When she blows
But you nowhere near it
You can talk a lotta shit, but
We ain't tryin to hear it, nO!
Ya boy Joe back on it, I'm back at it
The same shit that scared
got this girl a mink sable, in return I got a cable
Her name was Fat Mabel and she broke my kitchen to table
Ate pasta with this Rasta, went out with
baby
(Georgia) I'm still praying with you
Everybody crying but
(Georgia) ain't nobody tried
There's no doubt on my mind, it was
(Georgia) Bush! We from
Paul?
And my wife is all like "no, that ain't Paul,
Now tell me, who's this Paul?
She says "Oh, he's just some guy
Who goes to school with me
I sat
Ushers
Deacons and the reverends
We having a wedding
They get divorced at the court
Ain't nobody else's fault
With no teachers they get bored
Graffitti
We having a wedding
They get divorced at the court
Ain't nobody else's fault
With no teachers they get bored
Graffitti Bridge
See the chalk
Read
more talented than you
And the rules are I must send you out with forgiveness
Fuck
You have to stop calling the Masonic home
You're so close to being
that big bomb pillows take ya way back
My back is getting smaller and my man ain't callin' back
If he don't call by tomorrow
I'm gonna have to start
discovered Hendryx
Claim he's getting started, tarnish all the big tricks
Thumbs up with a fist bump, never broken his hand
Token man toughest acts, never
got this girl a mink sable, in return I got a cable
Her name was Fat Mabel and she broke my kitchen to table
Ate pasta with this Rasta, went out with
did
Now my inbox is flooded
I'm leaving dudes on read
Like a bad bitch and everything
We ain't gonna be sad no more
Where's the new chorus at
We need
I'm dissing you, yeah, I'm still waiting for a pic, but
I ain't no bitch like Gibby
You an autistic little freak, trying to make it big
But you can't
Well, the church burned down and no one knew
What the Pentecost Baptists was gonna do
The Sunday brimstone got so dadgum hot
It burned up a church
while you at your job
Then open up the door like
I ain't doing nothing wrong
I was greeted by a woman
With a tee shirt and thong
I ain't even know that
did the soundtrack
And then I discovered Wu-Tang soon as I found that
And then Big L, Mos Def, and Nas, there ain't no turning back
Couldn't change
with America's #1 DJ, Funkmaster Flex
In collaboration with America's, pardon me, #1 independent rap label, Dipset
And right now I'm accompanied by
with no problemo
Iceberg rabbits and the fox and more
Where I coped two more brought four for RZA
Bad Boy thank you for this special delivery
can't get rid of it like (Release) business
Magnificent, intimate, in it with, in a minute, gonna be in a nicks
In it with a gig, big fat heads like
business
Magnificent, intimate, in it with, in a minute, gonna be in a nicks
In it with a gig, big fat heads like eggs Benedict
Pigs lick shit, rip with
with my present I'm the phat Illmont resident,
Getting more play than our current president
Ladies start the bump
Let's get the bass to thump
I'm Ian
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