Lyrics:
on pushing til the day I'm dead (Until I'm dead)
Another dream (Another dream) just one more scheme (One more scheme)
See me doing it by any given means (By
on by the right kisses
But the hardwood has the only grooves present on the scene
Hear a few mumbles questioning the methods of his team
But sitting
was in the mix
Should've stood in the chrysalis
Focused on the long term benefits
I went to different lengths to spread my gifts with this
down say what
Don't call it hip-hop
Because it really isn't
If you listen, it's similar
But just a little different
Rhythmically delivered lyrics over
A little different kind of mood
The sun is up
Don't let the world go by
Take my hand I'll take you for a ride
We'll keep dancing till the end of time
For
you need something different to eat
Forget the birthday
It's accompanied by sweater weather and knee high snow during an ice cold winter day
So I stay
Michael is a liar and ain't sucking it up bitch!
Alright, we need to bring the beat back for this
Game is getting carried by people wanting the fame
So they
a rod
Beat so filthy that I'm getting every nod
What in the heck would I do without God?
Lookin' at me now fella I'm hella different
Compare me to others
because you are lonely
Or that your parents are going to die
I like to get my coffee with all the little frothy things on the side
And I like to put in
because you are lonely
Or that your parents are going to die
I like to get my coffee with all the little frothy things on the side
And I like to put in
soon be rocking off billions
Owning a couple of scrapers
Looking at y’all children
This here a different standard
This beat is
I got dynamics
I'm outstanding, never a stand-in for somebody else
Run up on me by mistake, don't run up all by yourself
Celine Dion type beat, main
to miss this
Cause uh when I flip it I kick it a little different
It get kinda explicit but it leave you all lifted I
Like to twist it get lit it and then
lunch by lakes
MJand meet a hundred different bitches when I drop new tapes
I had to sacrifice, get things right
In this rap life, I paid my dues
restrainin' order
All up in her kitchen
But have you noticed how she fuck different
It ain't the crevice that you wanna shank
It's me, fat bank take little
the O-V-A
And the rest is F-L-Y
You see I go by the code of the doctor of the mix
And these reasons I'll tell you why
You see, I'm six foot one, and I'm
I got her letter in an old mail box
I forgot I had at a little truck stop
And I read it once, and then I read it again
I could hardly keep from
by me
I'm not the guy you thought I was nah I am not what you had expected
I got the rhythm of jazz in the eighties and spit like a llama invested
I
it don't mix
And you don't even know you're waiting for your rhyme fix
But my mind sticks, my rhyme hits, your mind gets
Amputated, 'cause your
to talk my shit, I walked in the mix and I came with a blick
These niggas aint bout it they don't be on shit
Taking shots on the camera I'm really two Lit
professor, birds sing a territorial song, birds warn other birds by making different sounds for perched animals. Squirrels mimic the same sound. Roboraptor
to kill every nigga
That stand by him or speak for him
Can you stop actin' like you
Doin' me a favor? Do I seem rattled?
This idiot don't even know he tell
true G)
(What you got's) A concoction of some different ghetto blocks
(West Coast kill the tracks) East Coast gunshots
He a Compton-Compton O.G
(Mix
true G)
(What you got's) A concoction of some different ghetto blocks
(West Coast kill the tracks) East Coast gunshots
He a Compton-Compton O.G
(Mix
_2.jpg/300px-Little_Mix_at_the_Confetti_Tour_in_Leeds_(cropped)_2.jpg "Little Mix")
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