Lyrics:
a crayon contest with retarted kids and picked the wackest album cover
Picked the wrong emcee to diss subliminally, every line dissected
Yeah, I diss you
between my sheets
Yeah you guessed it we got shystie in a hot seat
To be quiet honest I'm like sick to death with you
All these kids running around
Youre the quiet type, with keeping to yourself
Though we aint the same from when we were kids
You and I we go together out just adventurin
But sometimes I
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
betcha betta know ian steppin’ by my
Motha fuckin' self I got the gang with me on this Album all we do is bang
Its OT$ Gang we betta than you lames putcha
Ratin latent, and perpetratin
My album's love mics, tough like dirt bikes
You get frantic, New York City, run and panic
California, I switch
bite you it ain't worth it, facts
What's with getting high off makin' madness all the time
Let's heal the world for all the children struggling in their
To Nike minaji
I be wan love, you tell me to fashi but
If you see how I’m cashing
Canvas is flashy, give them Versace
[Go! Go!]
We enter for club, I
yo man...
The main thing we want y'all to take from this album
You don't take shit else from this record, man
If you don't get nothin' else, man
with this sheer gift, and so I'm here to share it
I swear it, fuck money, so go ahead and copy this album
Don't sell it, give it your friends for free,
a couple of Rosarios
DJ Quik and Suga Free on the stereo
I'm the king of the area - barrio Barbarian
Interrupted by my bitch asking if we can go
her eyes
I'm asking the Lord the same ole questions why you had to die
(Spoken by the Pimp)
...and that's that Dirty Love we got for all them lost
Yeah... Bucks... In The Bucks We Trust
I keep on getting better by the day
I'm working gotta an album on the way
I'm thankful for the blessings that
Hey guys
Let me start by apologizing to you
For the way everything went down
On Saturday i had a statement typed
Ready to post to you
Guys but
Digital Album
package image package image package image
Compact Disc with 2 panel insert. All artwork by Fleeting Joys.
Also includes immediate download
(Hey hey)
This is a warning to those of you
Who have and have not
Heard my music before
(Love and no trust)
In this album I describe the way I feel
on (come on)
I'm talking to you, come on the Working Hour
This is the working hour
We are paid by those who
Learn by our mistakes
This is the working hour
I love spending time with you I love spending time with you
I love spending time with you I love to feel you in my presence
Every time I'm getting
nigga
What the hell is goin on,
I'm tryin to ease back,
And get my head in the zone,
Where the fuck you tryin to go,
Nigga this yo city,
Anywhere,
thunder
Now I feel strange when I walk by his mother
It's fucked up that's how the ball bounce
The cookie crumbles
That's what the guns do dead you
even takes all night (Yeah you can betcha)
You can betcha by the time I say "go?
You'll never say "no" (I'm gonna getcha, I'm gonna getcha)
I'm gonna
like a dead body coming for its murderer
Shit, you seen Chino lately? You gotta see him
What you get to make an album, I get in one day's per diem
Go
sticks
Punk-ass nigga, I'll beat you with a hockey stick
The nigga Hov gave you the game, you ain't soak it
You was s'posed to throw up the Roc, not
the management
I don't need trigonometric ratios to go on a tangent
See I gotta love hate relationship with Form
In that David Davis party with that labor reform
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