Lyrics:
of tolerance and unity
We're killin' with impunity so get that money
Fuckin' America
Fuckin' America
Welcome to the land of closeted tomfoolery
We're dyin' by
Truthfully, you're bringin' out the Kill
Bill 2 in me dennis Hooper shoot a nigga
Welcome to my +Hoosier+ speech
Kill 'em when I'm spittin
You should bring
to the party welcome
Whenever I'm driving and feeling kinda tired
I don't really worry about it I just put it on autopilot
And I let the car drive me, let
'Cause they know where you live and they've seen what ya drive
And they say they gonna put one in your helmet
'Cause you brag 'bout that watch, and all
news media, the politically correct and the enemy of the people, who not surprisingly hates the show in general and me in particular, by once again tell
highways
And beaten-up by-ways
That straddle and girdle
A great and many-faced nation
There are lambs in the ghettos
Who worship their Gapettos
Row"
Throwin' Westside, ain't no thang
We was raised off drive-bys, brought up to bang
We claim mob, M.O.B., if you be specific
We control all cash
Row"
Throwin' Westside, ain't no thang
We was raised off drive-bys, brought up to bang
We claim mob, M.O.B., if you be specific
We control all cash
And now Ladies & Gentlemen, Lupe Fiasco
Filet mignon with my food stamps
Car cosigned by my mama
Medical card from Obama
Background check for
know my name in Alba lounge
Oh wow I promised them I'll come by but ever my come up I act like I don't have time
And they act like they don't know us
muthafuckas in a coupe de-ville
Lightin shit up like Fire Marshal Bill
You see, I hops on the flo like my nigga Domino
And get a big fat sack of yay
A key
the Bone as if I've run out of money (I need some money in this bitch)
And yes it's funny and this gold they come and welcome me home
Right through that
to know you, and by way of welcome
Pleased to meet you
We laugh and cry as lovers will
And howl at many moons
Said the waiter as he wrote the bill
chorus x2 (Willie D)
I ain't goin' to war for a shit talkin' president
[Fuck fuck fuck a war]
(Bushwick Bill)
In Vietnam a lot of niggas died young
Welcome to my paradise where we roll the dice in that trap life
Play them cards fuck the odds ain’t no handouts ain’t no credit cards
Nigers loose
(Hey, you only wrote this for the money, didn't you?)
Connie Johnson got a farm in Wisconsin
And a diesel in the drive and her air horn's honking
I'm a battle-hardened warrior, I fight for fun
I ain't ever giving in till it's over and done
Didn't ever wanna have to foot the bill
I'll drive right
drive by
Got a bottle by my side
And a model in the ride
Take the top off
Now we gazing at the sky
Im a mothafuckin star
I put a twinkle in her eye
Three Palms Motel
Words and music by Devin Scillian (BMI)
A motel in the desert,
A day's drive from anywhere.
You're out here at the beginning
Welcome to Planet X
Where girls use a currency
It is called frantic sex
A place in which antics are dangerous
But you are never escaping the damage
margaritas on the house
Welcome to Charlie's Pub n' Grill
Can I take your order, get your drinks, and run the bill
So raise a glass to my decline
Glamour,
sell it
(Somеthing) i wanna drive 'em in
But the safest route is mail it (Safe)
Stand right in yo' mama kitchen
Cookin' like I’m Melvin (Look)
This shit
tanned up legs
Little mama got parts like she made by JEGS
And she want to hit a turbo
Wind up in the sticks
Yeti on chill, fuck payin' bills
I'm tryna get
notha level
Bitch I go dumb like I am heavy metal
Sand man sand man money in the bank full of dead man
Test drive a wraith I ain’t feel a rush yet
Cop a z
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