Lyrics:
I want you to go in that
Bag and find my wallet which one is it?
It's the one that says bad motherfucker
Band of brothers, laughing at them others
xans
Every time you see young Quavo
I'm having bands
Shout-out to my big brother Bandz in the Lamb
Going real crazy, doing donuts like the m
YRN
that
No problem, (why?) because I got it like that
A Baby Bam beat and an African rap
My partner by my side, Sammy be is on the cut
Your DJs
specific mention
We'll take this opportunity to thank you very much
For allowing us a portion of your time
In deepest gratitude we'd like to reward you
By
slipped
The Mac is cuttin records and punks are gettin ripped
Gangster I am, bust the lyrics like a drive-by
You wanna sleep? Well, it's lights out,
the backside
Just lots of lady nurses waitin for black eyes
I - I was talkin way before I could crawl or walk
And what the ladies heard, wasn't baby talk
I'd
and I'm crying over everything I mop
When they was telling me I wasn't nothin'
I called on all my brothers and my cousins
I never lie, to me, that's how we
on the line girl)
Hey DJ (On the request line girl)
Play the record by my favorite band
I like to hear my favorite song on the radio
So I called
followed by some bots that is no flex
Uh, flex while taking shots
That's a bow flex (Whew)
Yeah, I'd rather post a pic that has no text
(Yee)
Hit a stage,
lyrics like a D-valve
Speak up, a deeper meaning as I leak out
And seek out, a three the hard way endeavor
Pete Nice, search, produced by Sam Sever
lyrics like a D-valve
Speak up, a deeper meaning as I leak out
And seek out, a three the hard way endeavor
Pete Nice, search, produced by Sam Sever
D'void of funk so my set don't Slop
I'm kind of Cosmic like Vernon
I rap around the mic like Fuzzy
And like Starchild and Grady
I grab the funk by the neck
flexing my paper
Praying that I don't get hit by a hater (Fa-Fa-Fa)
Ask can we go out i say maybe later
Close that back door 'cuz these niggas some traders
and a new ring, bury riches in my grave-
Take all my greatest lyrics, write 'em on my headstone-
And when I pass on, know you'll never be alone-
Cap a lot for
blunts cigar scent
I'm by myself and niggas run they mouths like auctions
To streets my brother
Fefe's my brother
And we stay on point like a fucking
Ever rigid, never fidgety when dem a left a critique
Especially with these lyrics which is a helluva gift
Study me? You have a better chance fi master
This record you're about to hear
"The Original Gangster of Hip Hop"
Contains, contains explicit, dirty lyrics
Like, "Fuck, shit
Ass, bitch, your
on his drum
Like a magnificent steed.
Ben on the bass would make the thunder
And the lighting with love
And I'd sing the lyric of life
That I felt
and learn (He'd been)
You know, they used to hang out
And then they started singin' together, like rappin' together
Writing lyrics, he'll write some
[Jay]
One two, one two, and I say
I go by the name of Jam Master Jay
And the Hollis Crew, we here to stay believe that
[D.M.C.]
Hey, as we let
life
Single jungle brother, no kids, no wife
A hundred thousand rhymes from one band, that's many
But back where I come from, they ain't worth a penny
out
Who y'all think y'all fucking with
Took nothing made it something bitch
So y'all should take our example you'd
Be straight just leaving with
Nasty Nas is a rebel to America
Police murderer, I'm causing hysteria
My troops roll up with a strange force
I was trapped in a cage and let out by
on the screen, now let's start the show
Got some tricks up my sleeve - "oh shit, where'd he go?"
Eric? Eric's my little brother
The amount of, of work he puts into
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