Lyrics:
could be worse
I know my time's runnin' short so let me get to this thought
I'm sure you wanna thank your fans for all of their support
Absolutely,
contest
Now, who the hypest in New York City?
Wu-tang, radio stop shittin' on me
I got fifty men out in the street
Now if they all get bitch troubles,
a broken gun
Got you doing more dances than Puffy's son
All you groupies that wanna get took
You gotta be 12 years old with a coloring book
And anybody
superhead, deep throat that super dick
Then come back with big bread, see you?s a trooper kid
T-Pain must be psychic he saying what I think
I'm by the bar now
Ayy, let me hear that ho Jeff
This the Intro Part 2
Beat By Jeff
This the 2, been overdue
Bruh, I'm ranked uno
AK with me, new money gang
Kel with
track
Thought that I was over you 'cause now I want you back
Justa 'nother love song (oh baby)
On the radio (yeah girl)
Telling me with every beat (I
pop up with them burners
You worker, your boss is washed up like a surfer
The nerve of the server, I'll hurt ya
Ya Made You Look was a fake Neptune
hard? Ooh please!
You rappers do trap like Tom in a industry full of jerry mouse so that rats gets away with the cheese
New makervelly ? Naah really
album went six thousand on niggas
In Kansas City alone, we packed the dome with Mike and Liddy alone
In the west side, Lee Jone, Milly Mal, I left you
of the hustlers, who else gon do it?
Most niggaz is locked or in the box with embalming fluid
That's how I get it locked when I come through in the V
You rap niggaz
and say "nigga, why
You hatin' on me?" or try to, you know
Make friends with motherfuckers who don't
Wanna be my friends
Motherfuck you ain't, you bitch ass
little self on over
Get a little closer you can play my radio
Put your pretty pink toes on the dash
Lean your seat back
Man I swear there ain't nothing
on the Westside
Trevon (What up, neph? What's cracking?)
I wanna visit LA, I'm already packed
Been already stacking so we
Gon' get turned up soon as you land
Purple
“WHAT WE GONE DO?”
Written & Produced by:
Eminor and Sherri Baby Sharlene
Additional lyrics by: GK Jones
CHROUS: Mckinzie Baltimore
I CAN PICK YOU
you're bad with a bat
Your not Sam Pill so just don't swing for me
Like Ghetts I'll take it back to 08 and make em sing for me
Had 96 bars of revenge in 07
you wanna hang with old Eddie Kane?"
Ain't nothin' wrong, snap your head to the song
Word is bond, you get wrong
I'll have you sing like Louis
you better go on
Hey boy I got so many ways
Ways to get paid
Twenty four hours
Money to be made
I started off with nothing
Now I'm platinum
They booth you can find me
Bring the hook back let me tell 'em how a Nigga be
I really be chilling by myself like island
Well connected like version
the weather
Know it gets cold on them long nights
It's you I wanna hold on them long nights
We got separated by this long drive
Now I hit your phone to see if
loaded with the answers
You want it written out by the stanza just trust me to deliver
I started this dream I'm here to finish with her
Now I'm back in
loaded with the answers
You want it written out by the stanza just trust me to deliver
I started this dream I’m here to finish with her
Now I’m back in
in the rain
Then wanna f*ck with me when there's sunshine
No you ain't my homie you lyin'
Get yo a** back with the rest of the slimes
Ahead of my time
And I get to witness the person that’s real when you’re bruised
I think you’re amazing, and I want the days
When you’re happy and wanna tell someone
or home up in me come get me
I'm for this shitty dizzy spinning lawless constant progress whose with me
Fabolous thunder bird word nerd unda that tom pill
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