Lyrics:
a must
by tha year 2000
lil wayne gone tear this game up
Verse 2(lil wayne of tha hotboys)
Boss b,slow down in tha jag ya lost me
u kno how i flow in tha
'23 was supposed to act like a juvenile
I aint got no time
But I aint worried bout the future
Got the big dawg by my sideline
No perfect vision
Feeling
can't fuck
Twenty inches with TVs is a must
By the year 2000, I'ma gut out my bus
A lil' nigga seventeen playin' with six figures
Got so much ice,
and your sister from the jailhouse (jailhouse)
When you died, I was doin' time, I couldn't bail out (bail out)
Sometimes my stomach be hurtin' right by my
can't fuck
Twenty inches with TVs is a must
By the year 2000, I'ma gut out my bus
A lil' nigga seventeen playin' with six figures
Got so much ice,
Bullets fly by cha cha blow in the wind
One afta' another and another
How they come slippin out the clips
see 'em flip and hm hum
[B.G.]
You see how Hot
I chase
They just imitate
Ain't faking this fate
Not up for debate
I drink henny straight
Just let me be great
My baby got taste
Don't fuck
(No, for sure)
(I just)
People change and I know that I'm one
(I know that i'm one, I know)
Nothing great ever lasted that long
(Nothing great ever
In this great big world
You're all alone
Left to find out on your own
That's why I need you here with me
As a lover
Or as a friend
I know I'll see
thought I'd never be
As a juvenile I caught felonies
Kept a Scrooge face like I was Eberneezer
With a gun tucked for my enemies
Niggaz talk death and I'd
Probably 'cause I gotta tell myself another lie
'Cause that's what helps to get me by
'Cause I'm in Hell
This is my goodbye, farewell
Wanna hold you,
the girls I've been losing
But they're soulless and stupid and tone deaf and juve
Nile and more or less exuding doubts
Bye bye, last words that I've ever
acted dumb
When you'd see me after school?
But I wasn't no fool No sweat lost
Time passed by Now look who's boss
Probably never thought about you
Tanqueray and Hennessy until I cold hurl
Ten months in this gut what the fuck
I wish moms'd hurry up so I could get buck
Wild juvenile rippin' mics
Tanqueray and Hennessy until I cold hurl
Ten months in this gut what the fuck
I wish moms'd hurry up so I could get buck
Wild juvenile rippin' mics
feel like these walls talkin' to me (in my own mind)
I was young when my mama had me
Think I ran away from home 'bout the age of fifteen
Juvenile
weather
My nine gon' ride like I'm Juve that's pressure
This foreign a rental insurance on dental
My money in Real estate stores and the kennels
My dawg
Gun deh deh and di youth dem a buss shot
Dem mek sure drugs deh deh and wi baby a bunn crack
Surely the old time living a come back
Two wild juvenile mi
This imitation game
Music is all the same
This imitation game
Everybody imitating Juvenile's "Ha"
I don't have creativity, anything ha
Are you
call Earl, 10 months in this gut, what the fuck,
I wish moms would hurry up, so I can get buck wild,
Juvenile with the mics 'n' shit, New York, New
had my Hammer phase, hanging at my Nana's place
Dying to knock ‘em out whenever LL played
Naughty by Nature, Onyx and even Kris-Kross
Heavy D and Das
tangeray and hennesey,
untill i call earl, 10 months in this gut, wut the fuck,
i wish moms would hurry up, so i can get buck wild,
juvenile with the mics n
of fly girls
Tanqueray and Hennessy until I cold hurl
Ten months in this gut, what the fuck
I wish moms'd hurry up so I could get buck
wild, juvenile
earlier
I did it by the books
But instead I had skip to class
And go and make a jugg
College grad might I add, let me retract
I'm a gift that's already open
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