Lyrics:
rockin' on the mic, you should all applaud
Because we're wheelin', dealin', we got a funny feelin'
We rock from the floor up to the ceilin'
We groove it
rockin' on the mic, you should all applaud
Because we're wheelin', dealin', we got a funny feelin'
We rock from the floor up to the ceilin'
We groove it
and lit it up from Spain to Libya
My next video should be shot in Abisynia
Profetic productive, my time managed
By nine planets, I shine equality, God
and then ask, "Who chipped in for the ten bag?"
Et cetera, I roll my blunts with two textures
Pick up fifty bags and then I smoke all the extras
It's
so let's get it
Yeah we shoot when He pass so we pivot
He left us with His Word and we live it
Way the streets acting up we ain't with it
Way we talk
lost my memory
What became of me
And do I want to see
Caught up in with the cost of another dollar
Is tossed up, no cuttin' corners to cuttin' commas
We
We got 100's on 100's on 100's on 100's you see that they banded up
Tha dope it's comin' it's comin' these razors keep cuttin' my hand up
You throw
the pop, chips, rock, trick
Said it's all, get 2getha, it's alright, get 2getha
Alright, get 2getha, get 2getha again
Said it's all, get 2getha, it's
the AK
But I like the MAC-11 by far
I'm from the trenches
I done pulled strings like a goddamn guitar
Pour my cup up, pour my cup up
I been cuttin' up
hit her at two
Came back like, came back like
I'm just tryna keep calm, got a lot on my mind, it just get me upset
Tell em' I'ma be fine, I just need
They talkin' shit and wishin'
Some of these guys getting' all hurked up
From a ghost-writtin' rhyme by a chump, word up
It don't make you a big man,
the way that it goes
We got blessed by Stone City outta KCMO
Now they recognize us every place we go
Hondas Suzukis Harleys and Kawi thangs
So Sick up in da
[Bushwick Bill]
It's Bushwick Bill, I be that motherfuckin nigga
Four foot two, a couple of inches and I'm steady gettin bigger
Straight from
Waited two days and started spendin'
It fast as fuck straight up splurgin'
Open like a virgin with her
First piece of dick, 10 yards ain't shit
I blessed
(Chorus)
Tap the bottle and twist the cap
Tap the bottle and twist the cap
Tap the bottle and twist the cap
And pass it around the crew be cause
It's no coincidence how you come show
Up in my hood
Up to no good, huh
Walk in and smell the acrylic
Walk in and smell the acrylic
Me and my crew
And as the dj plays the sparkles fly
Like fireworks have gone off
We got out glasses up and bottles high
And if you don't that's your loss
So we should live it
Take em out, take em out, bring em out dead
Shine em up, shine em up, shine the bald head
One gun, two gun, three gun, four
You're, mine, it's all
niggas actin up in the hood, send mo' troops
Why should I lie, when I can dramatize?
Niggas fell victim to my lyrics, now traumatized
Simply by spittin
2 packs an im booted up
4 oz of this dirty mud
8 xans an some e cups
I Do 16 bars shows jumpin
Still bando cuttin
Razors
Scales
Cluckins
Zoomin on tuesdays
When with the crew
I be cuttin back now, provide for 2
Thinking bout my future with you
You be in my mind like "oooohhhh"
You be in my
what?"
But his man is like, "Psych yo"
Take it from one extreme to the next
And my shit always bounce like D-M, to the X
I can bring it from up
of the calm, the witty
Yo shut the fuck up!
Luck said shut the fuck up!
Bitches in the back, like crack get it cut up
I speak on behalf of them broads you
off white
They questionin' my score card
Hold it to a torch light
I hid it in the porch light
See I had the foresight
My 9-1-1 was pullin' up
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