Lyrics:
We lit, we live
Free drinks, we slide
All a**, no thighs
We mob, no ties
We drip, you drown
We smoke by pounds
We lit, we live
She hit the wood now
pointin' and leakin' falsifyin' the stink
You think I'm pink I blink with them shades of thought and think
(And in this corner be the hush) so play
days of finger banging
Old Mary Jane Rottencrouch
Through her pretty pink panties, ARE OVER
You are married to this piece
This weapon of iron and wood
eyes
And there they stood in the middle of the woods
And an old creepy mansion man this can't be good
And then these creatures started to appear from
and tears in this shit
Gave me no losses, out in this field, getting hits
Far from the finish, my people still in the sticks
Breakthrough is coming, baby we
in the wood,
So lady be good to me.
Oh, please have some pity
I'm all alone in this big city
I tell you I'm just a lonesome babe in the wood
Bend my finger back (snap)
Wrap it in a paper towel
Break a twig in half and set it straight
Hit me with a wood bat
Hit me with a canister
Yeah I'm good
Money jumpin' like it's Kobe off the wood
Sneak dissin' I don't listen, I don't look
Bitches come and bitches go, it's understood
It's
you tricking with his cousin
But nevermind, I don't listen they be bugging
They find it hard to understand how could T.I.P. love
This girl, when her
And there is a cottage by yonder lea,
This couple's married and does agree.
So maids, be loyal when your love's at sea,
For a cloudy morning, for a cloudy
Who was ate by a lion it's told
So I left little William by the tigers' pavilion
And round to the monkeys I strolled
There was one great big monkey who
famester, famester's gonna be slapper
I been doin' this pah
I done stuffed tissue in the top of a tape
Just to record marley marl
(it's the firing squad)
Written by: Dèja D. Williams
Produced by: Thomas, Craiger, Shahid Elamin, Dèja D. Williams
Dèja,
I think this my favorite song
I think this
fear
He thought that maybe they'd listen to
A puppet telling them what to do
You know he got some string and he got some wood
He did some carving and he
a triple platinum artist buck by buck by only a single goin gold?
Roc-A-Fella ship fold, and you're left out in the cold
Is it back to charging motherfuckers
all soon will be. Jesus!
You've started to believe
The things they say of you.
You really do believe
This talk of God is true.
And all the good
a dutch man I need a wood
Listen
Look fuck you
Fuck the plane you flew in on
Fuck them shoes
Fuck the socks with the bell on it
Fuck them cheap ass cigars
throwed you won't hate here
If it's a cup then you know we gone po' it
William Shakespeare
Big house by the pond no lake here
You say you eatin but we
We got ways to make you move
Dance to this, dance to this, dance to this
Who, me? (Dance to this, dance to this)
(Ain't goin' no place)
Dance
we all
Soon will be
Jesus
You've started to believe
The things they say of you
You really do believe
This talk of God is true
And all
famester, famester's gonna be slapper
I been doin' this pah
I done stuffed tissue in the top of a tape
Just to record marley marl
(it's the firing squad)
the mind creates
And the t-h-c adds to the mental elevate
Like Katt Williams said it gives you that “Fuccit”
Won’t see it as bad as the hole
In the bucket
all for tuning into these debates
Some really important issues to adress
And I'd love to answer your
Questions and hear your suggestions
(Listen to this
The son I can't see
I do die daily but if I list 'em
Somebody may listen and begin
To judge people with
The standard which is really not commanded
But it
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