Lyrics:
it behind cuz I've lost all my hope
But that can't be true cuz this album my fourth
I won't give up I won't walk out that door
I'm never content, I'm
damn)
Dylan's car
Somehow it's not done
Dylan's car
Addressed it back in album 1
Weeb stickers on the back
Right above the bumper
Where you can find
When you least expect it
We back up in this piece like yeast to bread
Underground you gotta find me
Like an Easter egg no need to beg
I hit the club
the door
Cause i'm coming over
And when them panties hit the floor
It's gon` be over
Cause i'm your secret l-o-v-e-r
verse 2:
I like your style
Could be my
a hit. Cause we never gonna lose it dying. W
e gonna keep on fighting. Hold on when we win, take a hit. Cause we never gonna lose it dying. We keep
of a magazine ain't even got a album out
Hop at da streets my delete cuh my hits out
Now I'm da one everybody wanna talk about
Hustle hard ball harder dats wat I
Number one is the place
[Chorus:Repeat x2]
[Krayzie Bone]
Now we ridin by [Repeat x4]
the price go up when they hit the town
Blood on the dough, I'm going to war for it
And I got junkies at the door, and I got chickens in the kitchens
I got
out, snatch my chain
Get stomped by a whole lot of Timbs' though (stupid)
I'm dunkin' on' your bitch like Tim bro (free throw)
I let the block hit
[E.D.I Amin]
I speak
For all my n****z livin` in the rush
Slow it down just a notch baby
It`s goin` be alright, it`s goin` be alright
[2Pac +
nothing
Making all this money I got these bitches blushing oh
1, 2, 3, 4 That's bitches knocking at my door, wearing clothes that you can't afford
She gon
at the door (what?)
Got an eviction, I'm like fuck, I need to hit a lick (I do)
Catch a nigga lackin', put a jackin' on him (what?)
Stick the gun through
tracks
Two six racks
By the time I'm hitting roofs
I'm so bad
Yeah I know
I hit your boyfriend at the store
Make him leave you for a side that you don't
her out
Put the hook on her, now she got love in the south
I got some purp' on me now
Stacking the Styrofoams up by the door
They don't let me back
Wup that hoe [x13]
[Chorus x2: Yo Gotti]
Wup that hoe, Wup that hoe (she fucked yo baby daddy)
Wup that hoe, wup that hoe (shit I aint mad at ya)
sticky by the sto'
I rip your hottest MC like eenie mynie moe
Fuck dough I do it for fun, "Juice" like Bishop
"American Pie" nigga, hit your momma like
* What you gonna do to get the women on crunk
I'ma hit 'em wit the funk got 'em all like OOOO!
[Hook]
[Tech N9ne]
One, then comes the two
said we are being chased by the boys in blue
Adam's with me and we know what to do
We'll meet up with Xain and Eggsy by the Baneswell Express
Then we can
chains I could spot biters for acres
Now be gracious, these minstools turn a bully's psycho civil
By dissolving the candy coated image down to the pixels
the new red
The Spirit and the Sword
Got me workin' on my two-step
Flowin' like a rasti
Dance like Jamiroquai
Speakin' simple English
But they actin'
the lawnmower, and then he....."
Dick or treat, bon appetit
All the little kiddies running down my street
Gathering candy treats door to door
But they walk past
Money I teach
What them man their reach
And I hit my target
Got my slimes
I got my peeps
One box two
Three boxes and four
I got five boxes 6
If it was 'O5 or something
Don't mean to be rude, Rudy, I love ya
I got the top two albums of the year
Lets see what you got, hope it doesn't get
hair
I walked in through the back door entrance
Shocked it was unlocked, when I walked in, I smelled incense
Chased by a weed aroma, empty
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