Lyrics:
bought my tick
Took a leap & I haven’t looked back since
Lot a dead weight cut off throw it in the pits
No purpose, you ain’t getting in the mix
I
throwing P's
While you stand with me
P-Town, charged up like batteries
Mo fuckers is So down
It's an understatement to gravity
Pour two shots for loss
throwing P's
While you stand with me
P-Town, charged up like batteries
Mo fuckers is So down
It's an understatement to gravity
Pour two shots for loss
throwing P's
While you stand with me
P-Town, charged up like batteries
Mo fuckers is So down
It's an understatement to gravity
Pour two shots for loss
fear
Out here it's fresh water fuck your wifi
Letting that Golden Teacher reach my minds Eye
Down that Paradise Drive sideways in a Side-By
With my
a thing for a brother like me
Uncle Sam want to buy another missile (yep)
Strip Mix-a-Lot straight down to the gristle (mm)
I made a few mil'
niggas
Flow like dro, I pull then clip it or mix it with some moet then sip it
Then turn around and flip it, shit on your whole album wit a snippet
I die my spirit will jump inside machines
Runnin niggaz over like Christine (sorry)
I mix the green with the last piece of hashish, ass-burning
the mix
How you jump in the mix
Twelve coming better hide the whole
Brick
I been tryna focus on the money
Not none of dumb shit
Its a lot of shit
lotta shit
rock
Well, so far you've heard my voice but I brought two friends along
And the next on the mic is my man Hank
C'mon, Hank, sing that song
Check it
Mix, mix, stop now move around
Mix, mix, stop now move around
Steppin' up to the mic.
Mic 1, mic 2.
Rollin' step out the bathroom stall we got
the Mix-a-Lot
Bitches put 'em on the glass while
I'm puttin' stickers on they ass
I rule everything around me like cash
On the rocks of reality, dreams get
the parking lot, on 22's plus
It's a must I make all haters, eat my dust
Them jump-out boys, waiting trying to catch me slipping
I ain't tripping, grain
though
But it's gon to be hard to breathe if I feel played
Watch him fade as the shells jump from the 12 gauge
Militant mind I grew up around soldiers
Tossing periods in front of false reps?
It's not the 187 when the 360 slept
You swallow the cake from the plate of elevate
Or you might get sparked by
rock
Well, so far you've heard my voice but I brought two friends along
And the next on the mic is my man Hank
C'mon, Hank, sing that song
Check it
around with fire cuz your ass get lit
Why the act brad pitt don't be talkin out your neck or your wig get split yeah
Two by four to park it uh two by four
one headlight
I've been rollin' for two months
With them hoes on bright
He said your girl friend here is
Doing an awful lot of choking
It must have been
I'm gettin' paid by the pound and I got mad flow
Flip flop who's the bigger one, quick to figure one
two, three two one, ah!
Keep a pen and a pad
it's done, uh
I did good in my hood as a youngster
The Heavster was never a punkster, no sir
No ma'am, hot damn, me and Michael Jackson jammed
I
Two three four
One two three four
One two three four
One two three four
One two three four
One two three four
One two three four
One two three four
pop
Don’t go mix me up, no hot pot
Don’t go mix me up, no hot pot
It’s hard to see y’all in my box
It’s hard to see y’all in my box
Every moment in
on the radio
Tell the DJ spin it on the mix show
Make a brother feel like I'm down at the disco
And we gonna keep it going like Crisco
'Cause the DJ grab
My name is Lion
Bitch I’m a king
You call it a mix
I call it a sting
That bitch a Devil where
Prada’s lil ring
My phone aint silent
Bitch where is
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