Lyrics:
'88, Oshkosh and blue and white dunks (everything will be alright)
Pass the blunt
Sky is the limit and you know that you keep on
Just keep
'88, Oshkosh and blue and white dunks (everything will be alright)
Pass the blunt
Sky is the limit and you know that you keep on
Just keep
and the gold
But that never been the goal
Vintage gear, head to toe
When they see me heads will roll
I love me a challenge, I don’t beat around the bush
I don’t
Boy, I'm Will Smith-ing
Keep my mind fresh, huh
I'm in mint condition, okay
Watch that, top back, huh
I'm still wearing all black, I just passed
I will
another proper crack
and it's phat, watch the sniper, time to pay the piper
and let that real shit provoke, so you's a wanna be 'loc
and you'll get smoked
have more of them
Gotta be here for sure for them
Real nigga, but I gotta be more for them
Put points on the board, gotta score for them
Gotta set
[Erick Sermon]
Uh huh
[Parrish Smith]
Yo it's the return (uh huh) Parrish Smith and Erick Serm'
Kid don't mess with fire because
Jazz music, jazz music, jazz music
In the 40's came be-bop, the first be-bop
The real be-bop, so let me talk about
Diz' and Byrd, givin' the word
a limosuine everywhere you go and fly private planes
that's what I was taught to do
by my big homie thou
you can always be a nigga,
but a nigga ain't rich
Little Girl
Lyrics by Eric W. Smith (ASCAP)
Music by Glen Perdew (BMI)
Verse (Female)
Daddy why do birds
Fly so high in the sky?
Why do
milks at lunch
The milks was chocolate, the cookies, buttercrunch
'88, Oshkosh and blue and white dunks (everything will be alright)
Pass the blunt
the temple, non-calodic wit the father
Nickname's Pudding, Clarence 13X before the Will Smith's
and the limelights of Cuba Gooding
Lost in the cosmos,
a peaceful situation
Not some court ordered mandate shit
Give me that real better love
Not that shit had Keith sweat
Twisted up
Don’t get too evil wit
on that)
I'd rather be judged by twelve than carried by six, my nigga
(I stand on that)
I'll build my own empire to give to my kids, my nigga
(I stand
goodness
I found righteousness, in, common sense, so
Any utterance unaimed
Will be disclaimed
That’s countless
Rappers
Slain
Any utterance unaimed
Will be
Greyhound
Just me hittin like a beat from Dr. Dre, out
I'll be waiting on you (I'll be waiting)
I'll be waiting on you (I'ma be right here, for you ba-by
like a bitch, get smacked by your pimp
Your steelo's undercover, corny on the real brother
Keep that mop down, just like your album sound
You flop,
be this, there wouldn't be Chris,
Or a Public Enemy with a black power fist.
No Queen Latifa, no Will Smith either,
There would only be tight jeans,
on
She said she'd get freaky with me I'm like jackpot
She sucked me off gave me great head I was like jackpot
Head spinning like Will Smith then did my
"Be patient" (cookin' it up)
In my duplex with the bricks in the basement (bricks in the basement)
Real street nigga, never wrote no statement
They
skies comes blue
Through darkness comes light and I be known as the Guru
And this I certify we all should be alerted by
the traps within the system,
With each song I am so nervous
Walk the talk and go the furthest
Hoping you will be left wordless
But instead I'm feeling worthless
Have I lived
wanna chill
But don’t know how to take me out
Nothin’ to explain
You are who you are
No changin’ now
Ya game is foul
Neva will you be the man I crown
I
aCCENT)
"One of you two's gonna have to
Step up to the plate and
Be a dad to this kid anyone can
Be a sperm donor but it
Takes a real man to be a dad"
I’d
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