Lyrics:
they know and shit
And on that note, I keep it G
Like track four, "Kick in the Door" by Notorious B.I.G.
Don't believe me, look that shit up, I
the bones
You'll be Home Alone just like that little white boy
Master Eyce is on the way and live from New York
I'm catching wreck on a Saturday
Live from
bouncin' like I'm out here movin' weight
Bumpin Biggie in the pioneer as I reminisce
Before that it was Devils took 'em back to '96
I went down
of Partisans from… on each of those posts, those lampposts. There was a big sign, a big painting up on the wall, I think it was like a poster, just down by where
such a lot of money
Would be funny
Oh, I wish I could be like you
Rikky rock'n' roller
Today a new jet plane
Tonight it's a new hotel
You live in
selfish and that'll be bad
For my son to have the same shit his pops just had
And when I'm down to twenty three, I'm a be strapped wit TNT
Run up in city
three
Until then I looks out for the whole family
A true G, that's me, blowing like a bubble
In the everyday struggle
I don't wanna live no more
ease on
And where ya from no ain't shit to me
Bring that ass to the tailor talking shit sent ya ass history
Evident you you weren't meant to be
Jacking
Try to play me and I'm taking thirty shots, like I'm a
Great
I'm from the Apple, but I'm heavy from the H
To the H, that's Harlem to Houston more
no telling about me
Busting haters on a mill that like a half a ki
I come prepared off the block, keeping one in the cham-ber
Back from no where here
one to my bitch to pull up on you
Got them Foreigns back to back that's the 3M crew
40 hold 30 like a muh fuckin blue
I be wit that thunder like ash
home like the back of my hand
You finally calmed down
And I was upset that we had missed Saturday Night Live
We came back in, and you told me
To look
We ghetto, fabulous
Money make the world go round so let's handle this
Ghetto, fabulous
Broadcastin live from Los Angeles
Nigga Stu-be-Doo in
this y'all
[Verse 1:]
Oh what a feeling! - Drivin' in my four by four
Girlies Galore! - B.I.G. on the door.
Chrome trimming - with the smoke tint
Givin
And heaven is real, I get an actress into my bedroom
She lay down and say "let's make a film"
I be like action, I hold her hair down by her neck
This how
a second or more to run for the door
Before I blow back off the map, contact
You didn't know Stat' could get down like that
Who want them test rocket
off the backboard
Fuck a Grammy, that is not what I come back for
I came for hip-hop, niggas forgot to lock the back door
Live by the code, die by
I trap out different counties in 3 cities that I go to,
On that road from Houston, stop in Dallas back to Longview,
Hit the booty club and Shawty
up, slammin' Cadillac doors
Back in the day, when I was younger, hunger
Lookin' to fill me belly with that Rally's bullshit
Pull shit off, like it
emergence
Superlative, you fabricated like the word absurditive
I'm rockin' this from here to where the Persians live
To Brooklyn where the merchants live
her (yeah)
If she fuck a broke nigga that's tragic, uh (that's tragic)
I flew her in from Houston (from Houston)
She listen to Scarface and Travis
live shit from front to back (that's good, it's all fucked up now, right?)
To my niggas in the world, where the fuck you at?
Where my niggas is at?
live shit from front to back (that's good, it's all fucked up now, right?)
To my niggas in the world, where the fuck you at?
Where my niggas is at?
Try to play me and I'm taking thirty shots, like I'm a
Great
I'm from the Apple, but I'm heavy from the H
To the H, that's Harlem to Houston more
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