Lyrics:
facin
Go against crews like B-Bo and killers like Pappy Mason
A lotta niggas I know been corrupted since birth
Enticed to rob nuns for fun, for
this way and let your mind be free
And by the way, welcome to the party
Hey Grand master Bob that
Old school shit's fresh
But uh let's rock some of that
Your profession is a trade more than half hazardous
Working at the mill is better than lumber jack sawing dust
Many hats she wore them to pretend to be
a glaze
Working at the suffering
Learned a lot from Mr. Scott
Bob was always muttering
Damn it I need fucking pot
There is Mundo
Crushing something in
'cept get catched by dis' lil' stinker over heahhh!
'membuh, we's on broadway! muthafucker be buyin' dem tickets wants a lil' heart, a lil' soul...'n
eyes for disguise, talkin like them white guys
Shallow demeanor, karma was the main schemer
What could be greener, when all I thought about was Beemers
Was shot down at home by the Ford brothers' guns
Belle Starr, Belle Starr, your time's getting late
But how is Jim Younger, did you hear his fate?
He
Jim Reed by the dark of the moon
And your son Ed was blowed down in a drunken saloon
Then there was Bob Younger, you loved him so well
He rode with
Hatred picked you up because the love ain't never come around
I feel empathy for predicament now, but
You is also a headless chicken running around, and
It
told last night to
Bob?
c coupon list of all my sins
Maybe, I should give it up
Find another island way way farther out
Truly I'd be gone, completely
"Bob ain't Hip-Hop" I don't know why, I guess it must be the stage name
Now put me on the track with any M.C., motherfucker know you better bring your
I be having my way
I went to MIA 3 times this year just to look at the waves
Yea
I be having my way
I went to MIA 3 times this year just to look
MoXs on the Howard J G
[Master P]
And y'all other niggas that's still livin
That want to be a hero but can't be givin
Yo life up for these
by social media lies
I'm feeling woke
I'm feeling woke here
This is for the woke
I'm feeling woke
I'm feeling woke here
Are you
I'm feeling woke
I'm
of the heavy weights
And heavens gate is looking like it's a better place
Been praying for better days
Been praying for better ways
The heavy weight at lifting
When you hear this record, you bound to go AWOL
I worked too hard, for this life is serious
This ain't bulls-eye, I ain't your target practice
Portland, Oregon to Portland, Maine
Now I roll up torpedoes, get blunted with Rastas
For a hefty fee, I'm on your record like Bob Costas
I own so many
it
Bitch be nasty love to cream pie
Can't
Deny it
Let it go in her hole
Table full of liquor and the dro and plan b by it
Fuck on a Thalia, a Thalia
getting blowed
Eventually I might have to hit the dispensary
Buy a couple pounds
I’ll be high for a century
Soon as I step in the DJ mention me
I walk by
move
That's why a Nigga produce
My soul is old school get blues I leave no clues
Ion see no complications shit be bing to the bada boom
Ion care how
the world to live as one
Where no man is an alien
Mother Mary told McCartney
Words of wisdom let it be
Chorus
The world is still a nice place to live
Still
up car, still work a 9 to 5, bitch that's my fucking job
Bob like build and build like bob, be rich by like 25
Dis shit like do or die, shoot every
The only way to find this dusty track
Is to let me be your guide
When the dusty track ends the homestead begins
With two enormous gum trees standing side by
philosophical and existential question"
that has been pondered by people for centuries
Truth
But ancient knowledge says:
the purpose of life is to prepare for
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