Lyrics:
I've been brought up
By street cats who didn't get caught up
Like that New Jack Nino Brown at da Carter
I'm da new Tony Montana, only I'm just a
Little
It looks like I'm alone, but I'm in constant and delightful company
Admittedly I'm prone to hang with dim hopes and slim probabilities
Perhaps, most
up a cup fill the swisha with good and fire it up
So I can gather ma thoughts
(lets get high) Mo money mo problems
They say that's how it is when
Phone dry as fuck, like where's my plugs at
We gon wet it up, like where my thugs at
With the choppa ready, load up them .223s
Got your poppa unsteady,
a real nigga that's an honor
Niggas don't live by the g code, we know
Claiming real nigga but he cold
Like the sea slope charge it to the game
But you
"Yeah, yeah"
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah (do your thing, do your thing)
Uh (hey)
Whenever I want it, she give it up (hey)
So when she call my phone, I'ma
tryna, run me up 50
Could do it by myself, but I went and built a committee
Jus put the scope on the choppa, n now it's spitting pretty
Uh, Yeah, we got
boom, listen to the cowards flee, chaos ensues
Soon you'll see the wicked one
It's Matt the Spitter, Jack the Ripper's sickest son, spittin' on
Doom,
with some bullshit
There's no limit to what can happen
As the peace barrier has
Been broken by ignorance
People find themselves impaled in
Hell and it's
like the grinch
Going up like a blimp
If ya money slim
Better put it in the gym
2021
Yea I won
It's a win
And the way I'm making moves would've thought I
Opportunist clueless they switched up and I was laughing
All the blessings I received not meant for you to have it
Shady niggaz slim chances subliminal their
The wicked King of Clubs awoke
It was to his Queen turned
His lips were laughing as they spoke
His eyes like bullets burned
The sun's upon
Oh yeah, I see you when you go
But, I can't stress no mo'
I know you feeling like it's more
But, I can't stress no mo'
Pick up the phone is what you
It's so electric so I let
You spark me up again
If we set fire we can burn
This whole thing out
I learnt my lesson when
I let you spark me up again
to violence
I chose to get up out the hood
I lost some real ones that stayed in the project
I ain't no dropout, I got plenty knowledge
Made it out of high
like its a dead lock
Beats break your neck and your head knock
Slick Rick
Cold as a brick
Sharp as a BIC
Like my women slim thick
No nonsense
beautiful
Stressing out bad I can tell by ya cuticles
Fuck bout a way they that told me to do this shit
Get you a bag, whatchu gon do with it?
Back in this
on my clothes, (I do, I do)
Champagne by the bottle I never toast, (I'll do no toast, yeah)
I’m throwing money it’s covering up the floor,
These n****s
styles the way you flip a flap jack
It's Diamond D with the fat tracks
Originality, my concepts are endless
Straight up grit, I'm simply stupendous
My
drink, Wanna fuck it's gonna go down
Got her legs shaking, hoping that I never slow down
Counting up the money, fake friends think it goes round'
And I
And Miss Mossburg love it in the back trunk
You know that old school bitch, she like to get it funked
And splitting motherfuckers by the seams
My grand
take when you're steaming off the liquor
And you're tryin'a live a life but life is passing you by quickerSo throw it up
Throw it up
Hennessy shot pour
comes
My warehouse eyes, my Arabian drums
Should I put them by your gate
Or, sad-eyed lady, should I wait?
With your sheets like metal and your belt
comes
My warehouse eyes, my Arabian drums
Should I put them by your gate
Or, sad-eyed lady, should I wait?
With your sheets like metal and your belt
.jpg/244px-Fatboy_Slim_(2006).jpg "Fatboy Slim")
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