Lyrics:
they swappin'
It's sloppy, it's slimy (slimy)
It's ratchet, it's grimey (ooh)
I'm sinnin', I'm winnin' (winnin')
I'm Dennis Rodman (Rodman)
Hit
shoulder... ? Aw, you're fulla shit, man... ah, listen, by the way, before I go on; did you get those white albums I sent ya with the pencil on the front... ?
stu
I locked myself inside this booth
Cut communication with a few
And by the time you hear this shit
I'm workin' album number 2
Like Babyface I get
and come on through
You know what fuckin happens
Every time I drop an album
And top the charts like I'm Malcolm
And how come a white man rapping
Is seen
solve 'em, there ain't no One who ain't got em
Be the best man you can be and treat your girl With precaution
If you're offended by this album then you're
girl crazy she fuck without sheets
Ice on my fingers ima turn up the heat
Lights off its horror night now it creepy
Three albums worth my evil cuisine
[Too $hort]
Album number 12
Short Dogg still in the house
I ain't going back into retirement
Life is
Anything is possible try hard
It ain't
what you see in the streets
Despite what you influenced by, the life of crime has many downs
A little bit of ups, and everything you do got
the thorough?
BK forever representin' my borough
Push fly whips, quick to stack my chips
Too easy for you to understand my hits
When the album drops every
account done ate a moose, uH
WHy the car ain't got a roof, uH
Crib still ain't got a boost, uH
Black Hippy witH tHe caps lock, wHen my album came
Best
Beats being me
Rich by 24 now bests being me
Nigga I was just broke now
"When my Album drop bitches gone by it for the picture
And niggas gone buy it
to the jaw
I know ya just bustas perpetrating like ya raw
Mash it, Trash it, search couldn't pass it
The trick's last album didn't even go plastic
Some
Real love don't have an image
Not magic witness by havin’
Bitches or grabbin' riches
If it's about your own self-validation
You’re bound to fail
you stuck in a three
So you know your floss game ain't nuttin to me
When the sun hits the cross, yo it's something to see
are-be , Kid Capri niggas
so tired
Music is supposed to inspire
How come we ain't gettin no higher?
I know you think that you've got it all
And by making other people feel
So all hail or get tossed towards Hell, whatever y'all feel
Briusin' niggas, confusin' niggas like Chip Fu from the Fu-Schnickens
Hit you with
a album don't you call this one a tape
RIP Sad Frosty copped a crib up by the lake
This hit gon last forever bump in 2028
Aye I done came too far just to go
Hop back on the scene
Hold up, let me talk my shit
'Cause man, I got to let y'all know
Exactly who you fuckin' with
Kept the real shit for my album
(Maybe in this song, you shouldn't start by saying)
Nigga, I said it, I know that you mad
I've emptied the clip over friendlier jabs
You mentioned
always fun
When it comes to nuts, I bust'em one by one
So what's the 4-1-1 hun
CHORUS
[Mary J. Blige]
Yeah nigga, what makes you better than the next
we together we should put it in a song
Anytime you feel you drowning mane don’t let it guide you
Let me make an album bout it called Penn’s Bayou
By
a comeback like I'm Tony Parker
Call my assistant I need me cover
My album be fire
Ill still drop another one
You mimick my style
You got nothing on none of us
cocky till gun a gun cocking
Thats enough watching from the sidelines, peeking my eye by
All I knew i had to jump in, I'll be a nice guy
Three albums in I
Next album that you hear
The last from me
Feeling hella eager
To be leaving 2020
Yeah
Dead by Dawn, 2021
Coming soon
Album number two
But for now
I guess
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