Lyrics:
[Swizz beatz]
Let's get it started, get it started
Let's keep it started, keep it started
Yeah, yeah, violator the album
Go, go, go!!
[l
the bands like a nigga went to Jackson State
Or Grambling
Young Nick Cannon with the snare drum, dancin'
Watch the way I handle it, uh
Bring it
promo
Jessica Simpson that's so, so
Nick Warner's baby back, with that slow so
Devil white 5-0, they catch me at the pro bowl
On the field diamonds
každej má na výběr v uších mi hraje už jenom Kenpo
Furt stejný otázky, bude dobře, nebo jenom zlo
Bude další album už top, narazí Zey někdy na strop
I got by
Creflo pray Mike Vick payed bobby brown stray Whitney lost weight
Kimbo Slice on the pad when I write
That Mayweather money looking funny in
Oh yea
This is for my real fans let me talk about them
Right around with my first album
Remember that shit talk about it
You put me here
M.I 2
the Yellow Pages under smooth shit
'Cause Red ain't down for the bullshit
Niggas fucked up by letting me make an album
(How come, rude boy?)
To get
Alright, I'm on your radio dial!
107.5 Detroit Motown, and Motor City is the place to get down!
Look up at the top of the charts, what do you see?
Alright, I'm on your radio dial!
107.5 Detroit Motown, and Motor City is the place to get down!
Look up at the top of the charts, what do you see?
and Chronic stood as basically all that I would
Ever listen to and when I bought my first Onxy album, I started bumpin' them
Naught By Nature, Mobb Deep
invented this real
Been the same since my deal
If you try to say that I'm changin'
Wait for the album, see how you feel
My third album, my Graduation
regrets, no abortion, had a son
By the name of Seven
And he's five
By the time I do this mix, he'll probably be six
You do the arithmetic
Me do
keep it started
Yeah, yeah, violater the album
Go, go, go!!
[l boogie]
This is for my mob and my thug niggas
Ruff ryder bug niggas, def jam website
yeah
V pokoji je heat
Baby z pokoje jde dým
Hlava není clean
Ale prej by měla být
Yeah
V pokoji je heat
Baby z pokoje jde dým
Hlava není clean
Ale prej
the parents on a Party of Five
Luciano Pavarotti on a treadmill
Not going nowhere, slim chance we will
Less hip than Bo Jackson, bored like wood
Dick around
the parents on a Party of Five
Luciano Pavarotti on a treadmill
Not going nowhere, slim chance we will
Less hip than Bo Jackson, bored like wood
Dick around
like Jackie Chan and lay low, like {?} Jack-son
Maxing and relaxing, haters, do they really want to test me man
I got an arsenal waiting, do they
This album gonna be the sickest
That's on my pops
He put that dang-a-lang in my momma 9 months later I drop
He told never smoke rock
Told me how he
ends
Grievances
Ghosts howling in the spring winds
Hear them sitting by your side where the summer been
I ain't your
I ain't your dream I ain't your
you the perfect Boo
And like a fine wine, tomorrow's a better you
Got me on cloud nine, Toni Braxton high
No sad love, we boogie like the Jackson five
of the words
To Michael Jackson and his most of songs
When he was five, Benjamin was mixing his own cassette tapes
Using an old turn table with dual
with a pride
City boy, fuck it up fuck it up fuck it up
Always on the roam, this city's my home
If I die, you can write the album title on my stone
Never
Murphy's Law
Generation X—will I ever be your ex?
Flaws of a baby step', mauled by the mouth a bit
Pause, put me under stress, crawled under rocks,
chere
And y'all wants me to be forgiving out chere
I'm supposed to live by Christian ideas
But being homophobic could kill your career
So I switched
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