Lyrics:
on the ground
You might just get up without your head
You looking for trouble and that's what you found
Take a long time look around tryin to find
These niggas
done
Like if we ain't give a fuck about it
Tryna pull a 50 cent, get rich or die tryin
Be my love, baby, I'll be the illest nigga life for you
Like these
still get wrapped by Papi, screaming, "It's on its way!"
Can't wait for the next nigga
From my hood to say, "Look out world, I'm on my way"
Yo, what
the ice B. I'm pricrless. The iciest
And I don't gotta wear fatigues to blow out your chest
My bullets thump when I lace this fly shit pump
And baby I
to the Mixmaster days
And put it all in your jawmeat
And wiggle it around a little bit, hahaha
YouknowhatI'msayin? Party favors nigga
Ahh yeah, y'all need a couple
go) stayin street
Paws, to the wall, with the dirty dog, raw rap-ture
If you ain't with it bite crotch til it break your jaw
(Your jaw) For tryin
Baby, your Dada loves you,
And I'm always gonna be here for you, no matter what happened.
You're all I got in this world,
I'd never give you up
in a world of you and a girl,
A few grams in a pipe to make your head swirl.
You must spread the words of the master teacher.
You die by
curve cause there's no such thing as a curve
A circle is just a square with infinite angles
Your logic strangles creativity like a rope around the neck
but, I'm finna make it curl, uh
I can be The Champ and you can be my baby girl, uh
I can take you all over the world (Pack your bags, take a trip, yea
condo
All dem niggas playin' around
Believe I'm the one though
So baby take your clothes off
And bring your body next to me
(shawty bring it next
at a beauty salon
With a baby Louis Vuitton under her underarm
She said, "I can tell you rock, I can tell by your charm
"Far as girls, you got a flock"
"I
at a beauty salon
With a baby Louis Vuitton under her underarm
She said, "I can tell you rock, I can tell by your charm
Far as girls, you got a flock
I can
South suicide Queens, all niggas
Gather up all your arms
And get ready for this New World Order
Shit is about to change, motherfucker
I'm Miss
South suicide Queens, all niggas
Gather up all your arms
And get ready for this New World Order
Shit is about to change, motherfucker
I'm Miss
might just stop by your daddy's
Roll around in Pikachu, throw that window down
Pack a big ol' fatty bowl, shit me smokin' now
Throw it into drive and hit
And let her throw her ass, that's what a thug do
Put it down, rep how we rep, niggas know we ball
If you ain't know, we bought out the club, too
Baby
her by the arm and I asked her name
She said it was Nina and her man's in Santa Rita
I took her to my home and homeboy, I geed her
Set her on the way
to such a serious case
(broken law, broken jaw)
If you knew how to read the situation you would stay in your place
(broken arm socket, broken pocket)
If
and your mic ? on down the road
Assholes are like opinions, everybody got to have one
Shootin in the sky tryin to blast sun
Zero to sixty in a second,
tryin' for your freedom
Uh, if you don't die, then you try again (yeah)
You get your angel wings then you fly again (Jesus, fly)
Ain't no 'I' in 'team',
and get veneers or the porcelain (Jesus)
We all need Him, is you ready to meet Him? (Lord, ready?)
Doin' dumb, dumb but keep tryin' for your freedom
Uh,
baby, come on, come on, come on
Just throw your arms around me
We can run like we won't run out of time
Are you with me?
We can chase the wild
wutchu tryin' do that
I suggest you do not
My chain is hot, what's more hot than that
That's how I murda music, that's why your broads on my back
Got
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