Lyrics:
Yeah, yeah
Big bad wolf, uh
Yeah
Long ago there were three little pigs
Little hats and piggy wigs
For the big bad wolf, the very bad big bad
are
searching the square roughly turning over baskets and shaking down PASSERS-BY.
BRIAN appears near a rather dull little PROPHET, who is standing
By sharing thoughts I hope
To find a little peace here
I thank Allah for blessing me
To be creative
So here's a diss for me
For bein'
here flossin', Big Willies, we Willie Lynch 'em
Pull out the chopper, rappers hittin' the ground
Like every bar is a bullet, when I pull it, it sound
words Big 'Orra! Ah! Now, however you want
to pronounce it, "BIG ORRA" or "big orra", you know, Losfer Words will do. That little lot was released
2nd
three-hundred acres of cotton corn and a little bit of gravel
All bought up by a builder from downtown
Tomorrow when the Earth starts a-shakin' and the walls
ones by Jay Z and Rick Ross she
Did that song because she was asked and
Because "Kanye's a genius" She
Did "Bang Bang"
Because she "knew it would be big
And every victory felt, erodes doubts and fears
Let a monument of tattered plans
Be sunlight when clouds come and cover our lands
Many we know will never get
went into the little town of town of Kayna
Just over the hills from Nazareth
And there's a church that sits over the sis-turn where the water came from
went into the little town of town of Kayna
Just over the hills from Nazareth
And there's a church that sits over the sis-turn where the water came from
a hit from some laced up dirty yayo. Cleveland
buddy, yeah the city by the lake, and if you wanna holla at me in the
Land is where I stay.
Hook~
C-Town
drive em
Home theaters, can't Best Buy 'em
These niggas that I roll with
Don't let a single thing get by 'em
King pins and them drug lords
Chi-town
wanna do, you savour
This step is called the BRU to the T
Bust the rhymes for free, I gets down
Mack is inside your town
Busting lyrics tourture like
Downtown New York
Last floor, penthouse view
Still thinking I still want more
Oh y'all want more?
20 Track album ready, mixed, mastered, done, finished by
[Harlettes:] This is the story of a young girl
who was the hippest chick in town.
They call her Big Noise from Winettka.
Miss Birdie's sure to get
the club,
But ain't nothing wrong,
To have a little salsa in ya blood,
I see a couple thugs,
With some bitch Tennessees,
My town but,
I still got
piano the Cajun way
While the people gathered round just to hear me play
Got a little boy to be a big, big man
Got my wife and got my land
Playing
here it's little weeny
Bout to talk some big shit to make up for my small willy
Ay
I'm the goat call me billy
Yeah you're so silly think that you can
gotta pull up on her
Every time I'm down here
I tried to get her to move to LA, but she say that she can't
My little baddie such a
A-town girl
get me wrong, got four albums, stay consistent
You got a bodyguard, I let my nigga tote the biscuit
Twist ya cap back, you got blood off on ya fur hat
Yeah
Yeah
They say they need answers ('bout what?)
Well, I got big facts (big facts, big facts)
You went about it the wrong way so we can't fix
This is the story of a young girl
Who was the hippest chick in town.
They call her Big Noise from Winettka.
Miss Birdie's sure to get around.
Big
York New York big city of dreams
But everything in New York ain't always what it seems
You might get fooled if you come from out of town
But I'm down by
home oh from the party
And the good folks just got up
Crooked delegation wants a big donation
Send some old jive preacher to the holy land
Lord honey,
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