Lyrics:
to the hit) --> Ice Cube
[ VERSE 1: The Poetess ]
Growin up as a kid I never understood the things my dad did
Like hittin my mother, me and my brother hid
Syria?
First black president, the masses were hungry
But the same president just
Bombed an African country
The Jonas Brothers are here
They're out there
Catch me in the cut, easy G's is burnin' my gut
As I remember my ménage à trois was mired by sluts
I question mark your heart, punctuate your fate
All
you accept the charges, if not hang up
To my cousin Darren Ranch, stay up homie
To my brother Chris Butler, stay up homie
If you locked in the box,
serious about my hustlin
Gots to have my cash
Can you imagin if I was broke
Shit I wouldn't be bustin no raps
Id have my strap, running up in your door
ain't no real nigga beef
Swear I gave her a chance now she trynna take pics of me
Girl I like how you smile you be havin' that pretty teeth
Prolly not up
Overdosed wit' a TEC-9
(Tech-9) , no Pun intended
Now let's get personal
Ya youngest son Shane? He got molested
And ya brother did it
Shut up nigga! Yes he
gettin' fatter, bruh
Pull up in a Maxima
Turned up to the maximum
We in here layin' tracks again
This here was designed
And it wasn't by no accident
Like
that's my real brothers
Just because I never rap 'bout struggle doesn't mean that he the one who lead the wave
Just because I never did no covers doesn't
call you bro and shit
I know who my brothers is
Like Jonas's we want this shit
I don't owe a thing
Not even explanation
Got to reach my destination
health We crackin' them 4x, bout Li Glock we gon stel
In the water, he drivin', no help
He got smacked just for dissing li clap li Ap be cap on his rap
cross the thin line of the end of my time
(Hah!) Hold it, I'm still burnin'
Pop or not, I come to break up slots
'Cause it can't get no harder
Give it
stanktastic, funkalicious, vicious and nutritious
Yeah,
I'm from the home of the gold rush, we never fold up
Sold-iers here to keep the rap game sewn up
If you
Bringing real rap back
[Chorus]
I'm tired of this foolishness
cll these lies, all theses fakers, all these actors
I'm offended by these ring-tone
no wheel
Bitch be aware ('ware), the dogs be all here (here)
Too fast push the button make the tail drag (drag)
Burnin' rubber puttin' two-twenty
Who you know can rap like this I’m the coldest
If rapping my brother then I’d be the oldest
You back of the cupboard you old and you molded
Hold it
like they're up to no good
You take 'em to a label
Now who sits behind the table?
Some jewish mothafucka that don't know shit
Tryin' to tell y'all
know you're fine, bitch
But you got no cash you need to get a job
But your lazy-ass try to juice me up
I ain't no punk
I put you in the rap with
Luv and my nigga Young Lay
Spit that shit
Cuddies perved by the corner, stout, herb
Got me twisted, mo' cold killin murders
Them brothers gettin'
to stop but I know that all of it's typical
Yeah typical rap typical crap don't even show no emotion
Telling me this telling me that say it so now you can
deserve an indictment for the
Shit that I write when
I'm high as a motherfucker
Burnin' and lightin'
I'm God, nigga, shit thunder
Piss out lightning
My raps
think no more
I be all up in my head and I can’t sleep no more
It got me tossin and turnin
This heartache it’s burnin
Got my Stomach a churnin
It’s got me
Return from mega-death, I'll tell you what's left
Dilemma, Earth tremor, up by man
With the Grand Canyon rap, you dynamic wingspan
The Power from
from what I'm spitting
Getting blown to smithereens in a Toyota
Getting stoner, Jonas Brothers
Brothers, songs fricken rotisserie how these birds are
.jpg/300px-Jonas_Brothers_4th_of_July_Show_Taping_in_Cleveland_(51277060141).jpg "Jonas Brothers")
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