Lyrics:
hung my original self from the top bunk with a belt
Got pissed off and ripped Pamela Lee's tits off
And smacked her so hard I knocked her clothes
pulling like a magnet
So last week he started looking for Suzanne
He remembers that her eyes are blue or olive green
After 20 years go by, it's hard to say
Larson my dear
The answer so clear
But my music so conceptual
Try to solve the album you're better off using decimals
Livin by the medical like i don't
ours
Caught in ghetto tragedy
I talk to my aunt named Mattie Lee
And recognize the importance of family
Hand me a joint, good music and room to breathe
album and not show up
How the hell could you slow us
Got by myself nothing was for us
Don't try to come pour up
I know how to get down but trust I go up
they straight ate him up
And since these copy cats
Like to go so hard with acting and stunting
I'm ma come and then
Drunkin' monkey, Kung Fu junkie
Chun
good not to go
over again, going round the way they go around
too tight in the ass for florida's general chicago,
sensing the general strike in maud
by myself
No one fucked with me but now they fucks with I can tell, go to hell
I take that back I wish you well (wish you well)
All my haters wishing
want facts
But you know we don't want fags
I don't even know what I'm gonna say next
All I know is I'm getting distracted by a sext
I know I'm bout to go
they think they're pros
Ho's think they're better than Tech N9ne at rap
Go ahead get destroyed by the GOAT
At least I don't flex like every bad rappers
mare
If you see me go by, put up a prayer"
Well, they rode all night, and they rode all day
Eastward, long down the broad highway
His spirit was tired
hung my original self from the top bunk with a belt
Got pissed off and ripped Pamela Lee's tits off
And smacked her so hard I knocked her clothes
double-crossed my fans and lost my Stans
I'd probably pop five Xans (yeah)
Go in my garage, start my van
Inhale as much carbon monoxide and exhaust I can
to give it up
Sho indeed, let's Run D's MC's, they phony
Some hump free, they mad bogey
Saddle up ya horse, if the sunset mosey
Jam Master Jay deserve
Yup!
1, 2, 3
As it is plan to see
I go by the name of Jermaine Dupri
Dope man fresh in the place to be
And uh
[Chorus]
Oh, I think they like
If I had things my way, I wouldn't be a zero
Rather be respected like Pierre Ferro
Every album I touch 5 mics
Id be on MTV with Tommy Lee ridden
smoking D
Every rap I ever made was about this town
I made 7 whole albums with no James Brown
And even though I love his music, I just can't stand
homeboys put vogues on any car
With 6 by 9's smoking burners
Everybody got addicted to my dopefiend beat
Whole town fucked around and started smoking D
please just run my credit
Just like Lil Uzi, they trynna be like me
Pull out the camera make a movie like Spike Lee
Better than me man that's highly
Royalties are for men like Bruce Lee
I know
That it's a bitter pill to swallow
Your work is automated
By algorithms and playlists
They'd have you back
But
a sermon
Spittin' sick is a gift
I've been blessed by the lord
Been the illest since they snipped
My umbilical cord nigga
Yo, what the fuck is up man?
Dropped a beat tape son that s**t stupid
Album on the way this is just a mixtape
Aye
Young Chino so wavy
Pull up to the scene and they all go crazy
Hey
right away
One of the kids you go to school
With is flying all over the country
Kicking people in the head
They just avoided me
People avoided me, junior
Get this paper (Twerk dat, pop that)
Work that shaker (Twerk dat, pop that)
Go ahead baby (Twerk, twerk dat, pop that)
Turn around lady (Twerk
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