Lyrics:
like Luh-kang
I'm all bout the Racks, it ain't all bout the Fame
They can't believe I went up, Now they all know my name
Imma get racks and take care
pass mi m-I
Man, a bad man and man, nuh mingle wid nuh rodman
And if yuh dis di program, yuh is a dead man
Either by a shot or yuh hang
Jah, Jah
Hangin on da east side
For about 45
Keep it between u 'n I
Hangin on da east side
For about 45
Believe me this time
Shorty been fucking up my mental
hate to see it
Told my ma I'd buy her crib
Shoot seeing is believing
Excuse me Mr President
I know it's evident
You prolly don't want my Russian shawty
motherfucker and I raise my Tank up high
You best believe some a you coward motherfuckers goin' die
[Chorus]
[Big Ed]
Nigga what I claim?
Nigga I
Ah ah ah ah
Ah ah ah ah
Ah ah ah oh
Ah ah ah ah
I always knew you were the best
The coolest girl I know
So prettier than all the rest
and all my people living lavishly we need that
Lil buzz inside my city love the feedback
Everything I say
Best believe that I'm gon mean that
Was making
exotic
Aye, lil bruh just tell ya bitch I need some motherfucking knowledge
Feeling like I'm fuckin' Batman, switch the Tesla autopilot
Mr. J up in this
had a boyfriend, I still left it In her mouth, that's on the gang
Big homie he be wylin' like he Greedo
Mr. Snatch Ya Chain, brodie should be called
Crappy Rap Jamboree
Surely I don't jest
Such a mess, and lacks action
Best bet confess, just ask the black chaplain
One heathen to another
Brother stop
ignant
I'm a triple OG, I breathe that positive energy
But if it be, them or me
It'll be them you best believe
I got a son who need me
I need him too
no money to be rapping bout (maybe just a lil)
I ain't got no clout, got no name, fuck the fame imma get that later
Fuck a hater sometimes they my
shoot
Those magic boxes got me soooo fucked up
Our youth is losin to the internet
Mr glover said it best he put the past to rest
Because the internet we
decks than a skipper
Mr. and Mrs. Howe, Mary-Anne and Ginger
Gilligan, you need the Professor to take the rigor-
Mortis out, I got orders to kill em
a skipper
Mr. and Mrs. Howe, Mary-Anne and Ginger
Gilligan, you need the Professor to take the rigor-
Mortis out, I got orders to kill em softly
I wouldn't
of a rhyme, I will create it
The best is yet to come with much, much more
You got me rockin' you with my rhymes galore
Now, my rhymes won't stop, my rhymes
then I threw on my sweats
Was by the door in lik 2 minutes or less
I hear the horn okay it's time to get rich
Approaching the whip
And it's time
race me
If I gotta pop a nigga, I'm picking up the casings
Just in case the piggies wanna come around and trace me
Best believe the reaper coming if
can’t hold that weight, he best believe
I’ma spot em i can’t sit in the street
And let my lil niggas
Rott All black like I’m bruce
So who you think that
so called friends dey want make I slack
Now watch how I switch it up yeah
Bad lil' bitch finna suck this dick
Yeah I knew she bad when she swallowed my
dogshit
And by the way you girl is a fucking whore
I'm like a volcano i'm always on fire
Not jason goes to hell, you trash lil boy
Might as well call you
Intoxicate me, just like the best kush
It's a fairy tale love so, let's do it by the book
Baby you know I'm leaving everybody shook
Whenever you see me, you
cup
Yeah, so to that lil bitch i lie
To that lil bitch I lie (Why)
To that lil bitch I lie (Huh)
Sorry lil baby I tried
Yeah, but you know I gotta go
never gone' resolve it
You can play professor I'm a be the Ms. Parker
If you ever try to run best believe I'm gone hulk ya'
Spoiled ass bratt I always get
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