Lyrics:
back with your mama
You ain't never seen a grinder that grind the way I grind, huh?
Top of my drop still missin' as Osama
(Still breaking boys off,
believe
Don't feel sorry for me
I hate that look on your face
You say, just let go
You say, come back home
I say, I'm just fallin' from grace
I'm naked in
you leave in your blood
Goin' in flippin' hundreds get the young
Show 'em where it go
Float on the floor
Gettin' more dough
Grind hard go
Black
you're chosin'
I don't need to check your baggage
Pick it up along the way
All I need to know is
By the time you arrive you'll forever be changed,
roll daddy got the glow
Got some pride in your town, I'm spotting 'em lately
Three piece suit and I'm looking so cute
Sexy mama, send her way, you
and side to side
Then I let the Alpine play
Bumpin' new shit by NWA
It was "Gangsta Gangsta" at the top of the list
Then I played my own shit, it went
rockstar life
behind And get back to the glamorus world of earthworm
larva (Roxy knocks on door)
Roxy: You decent girl I got your little squeaky friend
Big Bank
A nigga came from the trenches
Step in this bitch SWO
Rich energy I match the description
Sick bitch you need your prescription
You niggas is
the bass drop and hopscotch on a robotic man big as a rock stop oh no he slapping your face in with a massive metal long dong down by the Fox inn popped my
He'll tell me how they roll
We made our own path homie
You stuck on the road
Wit nowhere to go, and no way to move
And when they talk about the best
No
Feelin' bigger than life, but I gotta own it
It's a victory
Let's make history
Judge me by my progress
Look
Look at where I started and look at where
four might just
Turn up at your show me watching in a venue
Man we're leaving with your soul
I ain't tweeting little hoes
I need my P's to come and grow
Brother, don't make a fool of yourself
Don't look for a way out and just pretend
Brother play your own lonely game
Big little man try the best you
hours, and don't see the big picture
Over your shoulder, you'll get no last words
Because it's too late, you've clipped your own wings (your own wings)
hours, and don't see the big picture
Over your shoulder, you'll get no last words
Because it's too late, you've clipped your own wings (your own wings)
up on your way to
Work, see it all the time, always passing by
Call it playing Beetle-bug, yeah
It's on sight, better throw a punch
Running late
the funkiest, dopest heat on the streets
Three G ski, Slimm, Big Boi and this is C B-O-N-E
If you need some back-up, find your own
Your girl gonna give you
your ass get around, nigga (hey)
Get the fuck from 'round nigga (woo, woo, woo), you ain't even from the town, nigga
(Offset) (yeah)
Big body Urus
thirteen year old boobs
I'd hang out by the junior
High like my dad does
Tom: Hey
You know what I learned in fifth grade?
Mark: What's that
Your dad has
me none
I got four "big killers" on my back
Grew up in a small town, put it on the map
Everywhere I went used to treat me like a scrap
Man I had
looking for a little miss to kiss me
I went away I'm alone now
But I can't be afraid I got that Old Town Sound
Oh I passed my days in the Old Town
But I
Taking you to the other terrain, we mash strictly for the cream
Here to kill your whole scene and your motherfuckin team
Little 'Mal, the raw dawg, I
the full ten baby all of the way
You will never be south central LA
Got your Air Force Ones and
Your Sean John jeans
Way too big hanging down to your knee's
hard drums
Big drums, bitches, hoes and death, come on and get some
I'm not the nigga that you want to leave your kids alone
Cause I got my own
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