Lyrics:
the storms of persecution and staggered by the winds of police brutality. You have been the veterans of creative suffering. Continue to work with the faith
G
And you like, "No for real, like he wanna work with you"
I'm like "When?"
You're like, "Tomorrow"
Nigga shit was so crazy 'cause you know I
a bad rcmance fix hair, gives
Caught in a bad rcmance
Boujour mes amis! okay lets be Fashion!
Walk, walk, fashion, baby, Work it
Move that chicks crazy
at the age of 25
Do you have any idea what will happen to those men by the time they're 65
These 100 men who all start even at the age of 25 believe they're
Well they took you from your mother's womb and put you in a school
Told you how to run your life by following the rules
Told you not to pick your
I think I, already, haha
She must be the one
I look in her eyes and see the sun even on rainy days
Ain't it crazy, mane? Yeah, that's what I said
to grieve
And the summer day make a white man lazy
He sits on his porch killing time
I gotta work to feed my wife and baby
I work so god damn hard that
crashing always two by two.
I don't wanna work in a building downtown,
I don't wanna see the planes hit the ground.
I don't wanna work in a building
for a new world,
A decent world that will give men a chance to work,
That will give youth a future and old age a security.
By the promise of these
Everyone's crazy, eh, eh, eh. Literally, summer is as crazy as this year. Everyone's crazy, yeah, by the way
Everyone, everyone, everyone, who are you? It's so
I can tell that a lot of people hate me
I can’t be controlled and
It’s driving them crazy
People think everything I say is hate speech
Yaweh on my
Say they hate me, 'cause I make money
Men når det kom til work, disse folka e'kke funny
Tryna get this buss down ap hunned
If you ain't knowing
that men do, hell is where the men go
We snatched him by his hands and feet and threw him out the window
Up, up, and away cause I don't play, clown
comprehend
We making crazy money so stop watching what we spend
We multiply by ten
Selassie fly the gate
I trample all my enemies cause man a hold
of the gimmicks, tricks, oh it's
You either have the hits, or the crazy hype lyrics
But MC's come half-assed, and lookin pitiful
None of em lyrical but their
sniper
Raps by Cappadonna hit the countryside
Poetry whirlpool, RZA and True collide
We produce article exception to the rule
We the black men that struck
Have a baby
Have a baby by me, baby! Be a millionaire
Have a baby by me, baby! Be a millionaire
Have a baby by me, baby! Be a millionaire
Be
just driving you crazy
To All my ladies...
I know that most of you think men are trash
And I'm not gonna try and act like that ain't true
We live in
Section eight was his father
But he was raised by his momma
She taught him how to be stronger
Work smart not harder
Always rise above the drama
Go to school
Say, man didn't I call you last night
And tell you not to come
By my house this morning?
I can't make it to work this morning
And I'll tell you why
You say I'm neurotic you call me psychotic
Just because I let my hair grow long
You say that I'm crazy you call me lazy
'Cause I don't like to work
sound like the drum
of a neighboring tribe,
absorb the vibe,
feels good close my eyes,
and swept out the loot
by the crisp night air,
I gotta stay aware,
nothing about doing dirt
Sitting up, six months in the spot, on the block, losing work
I been there, any part of the game you name
I done did it, even
dead by the morning
My man, we are the entire fuck out here
Lights up, Ryan's up, fire up the sound gear
Been accused of the recklessness but I don't
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