Lyrics:
Besides that cusp
Turn right, I clutch
I've got one more thing to say
I've been amiss for the summer
They call me little drummer boy but bitch I ain't one,
(Jivin', real smoove, real tight, bring it back to the one
Side chain the bass to the drum
The ti-ti pum-pum
Little drummer boy
Bring it to your face
Woke up early brought the toys, and a map
Rarely scrap, get the gains, drummer boy
Now I'm high so I can see them, clouds above us every ceiling
Every
on Christmas Day he's
Beatin' the pussy up on Christmas Day
He the little drummer boy the way that he beatin'
You woulda' thought he was starvin' the way that
to nowhere
And everything
All Night
All Night
She'll be searching for love
All Night
Same little girl
Different drummer boy
She doesn't even know
He admires
morning to get it lil bitch
Twenty years old and I'm finna be rich
Might drop a bag on my wrist
Little boy you don't be living like this
He mad cause I'm
the reverend
I'll probably lose my hearing by the time I'm twenty-seven
It's a shame
But I need that bang
To vibrate my frame
ABS my game
Have to do
nothing to say
I'm just a young man tryin to make one more day
To all them bad boyz no they don't mess with me
Cause we used to have a drummer
The boy
crack
By seventeen
Eighteenth street where I played that
Nineteen - on the corner with
Twenty in they straps
Playing with my money like
Playing with my
the way to the zipper
I really love you hot girl but I got to flip her
Chorus :
(What you need boy?)
I need a hot girl
(What you want boy?)
I
The DOC- Hey yo Dre (yeah, what's happening?)
Have you ever met this female by
The name of ah Tairrie B?
Dr dre- yeah, yeah, I met her
The DOC-
probably like, damn, yo
"Why little Bobby didn't come to school today?"
On the real, I was doin' anything to run away
And that's the same reason kids
bullshit
I got a little boy to look after
And if I died then my child would be a bastard
I had a woman down with me
But to me it seemed like she was down
knahmsayin?
Peace to the Gods, we got a heavy job... Yo, yo
Trouble follows behind a wicked mind, 20/20 vision
Of the prism of light but still blind
polished look
And twenty dime bitches, to show y'all niggaz how my two dollars look
The boy's got at least six digits on
So the guns gotta be at least
Raised by thugs, schooled by killers
I learned mathematics from big-time dealers
So now them busters love to
See a nigga falling cocked the Glock
twenty three on my
Make my feet hurt
Yeah make my feet hurt
Make my feet hurt
G nineteen switch got some kick bruh
It knock your shit boy aye
Vertebrae
the Lord, been embraced by the Lord
Got me sittin back just givin' thanks to the Lord
But even in the midst of that there's plenty
of little things I forget
White powder, mayo spread get the toast
Dope daddy bring the mink for the snow
Push them T's but I get it by the O's
You been blessed by the sick
of the year
When little drummer boys
Bang their rhythm with care
Come on, come on, come on and give up some love
Singing with the choirs and ringing some bells
ourselves warm
Sliding through the night
In the grip of a storm
Come on, come on, come on
It's the time of the year
When little drummer boys
Bang their
to pass the time
But little did you know
While you were telling jokes that time passed you by
Now you a second thought in the back of the head of a major
Yeah Yeah (Yeah)
Footz the drummer on the beat (Ah!)
The khaotic way
She keeps blowing up my phone
And she keeps texting me
She follows me like
Cursed drummer boys
On shrooms
Colorblind ghosts
Unloading blockages
In vain
Antagonistic calligraphers
Fractured throwbacks
Eroded lunatics persecuted
By
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