Lyrics:
to stay boy!
On the outskirts, of what works
Live those who go for broke, and murk to get murked
Live by the sword and die by the semi
Not part of my
Covers, videos and all that shit
Fuck you post-Drake-ass cliche-jerking, LA-Slauson rapping
Fuck-nigga-ass Hypebeast niggas, now back to the album
it's just me by myself
I could have went and got Kendrick, went and got Snoop
Went and got Nipsey, Jay Rock, ScHoolboy Q
Could have went and got E-40
by my grind like the shaker
Mind my behavior
I park the car for the valet
Set the table for the waiters
Totally self sufficient with a
Whole lot
(yes)
It's like that man, it's like that (yes)
Check it
I'm not your average MC with the Joe Schmoe flow
If you don't know me by now, you'll never
(Great John on the beat by the way)
I was on tour for four months we was overseas (Greenlight Gang)
Did fifty-five shows in forty-five countries (woah)
niggaz, sky 'em like twin towers
Hennessy, dick kisser
Slang lord, verbal pain commissioner
Light fire to names, dame sizzler
Multi, forty karat bow
kid Black is the only thing that could fuck it up
The purple top thirty-five smalls is ringin' bells
But I'ma crush him with the black 40 double-L's
For the go again,
I been busy stackin up
I been busy bossin up
Hit the 4x
Blade dance,
Rover baby from the Eastside
I heard ya album
I do better on my
voltage of an eel
Truth that I reveal'll
Crush the amateurs who scream they keep it real
Caesar black down, hoodied up in fatigues
Part-time minor
by a crack in my units
I'ma stick to the shit that made The Click
The super kind, I love to spit
That nigga 40 vicious, he got speech I heard him
Niggas hangin' deep on the cut
Sippin' on a motherfuckin' 40 ounce of Gooden
Ain't shit changed in my hood since '86
And 1987 I was swore into
Niggas hangin' deep on the cut
Sippin' on a motherfuckin' 40 ounce of Gooden
Ain't shit changed in my hood since '86
In 1987 I was swore into
think that killing's living real
Shorty's is getting wetted, fulfilling their fantasies to set it
We don't sweat it, by the fifth you get beheaded
I
getting wetted, fulfilling their fantasies to set it
We don't sweat it, by the fifth you get beheaded
I pivot through my borough givin' pounds
Niggas hangin' deep on the cut
Sippin' on a motherfuckin' 40 ounce of Gooden
Ain't shit changed in my hood since '86
In 1987 I was swore into
[U-God]
Yo yo
I was born with this magnet, warned by the dragnet
About my dirty habits, I got to have it, the super-glow
Deuce Bigelow - Male Gigolo
case
The last girl I gave my heart to
I won’t say her name
This albums dedicated to the lovers
Cuz when the world is on fire
They carry all of our
conversation when I'm lookin' up
Be on the look out for that album when it drop from clouds
Mesmerized by the twinkle in the eye of a child of God
Mesmerized
a publicity stunt? This should be fun
Last album now 'cause after this you'll be officially done
Eminem killed by Eminem
Matthew Mitchell, bi-, I even have
people to buy
Well how's this for a publicity stunt? This should be fun
Last album now 'cause after this you'll be officially done
Eminem killed by
many artists that have a bad first album, but their next one gets better. I hope this happened for me.
All my broken dreams hanging by a noose
Just
with some rules
Ayy, JoJo, I need you to take notes too
Don't take me off the deluxe album that no one gives a fuck about
Take me off the original too
Sippin forty five with two zig zags
It was one of them days a nigga just felt like getting blazed
When the fuck did blunts go up to a dollar twenty eight
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