Lyrics:
at the school
Where those nice old ladies tried to teach me
Unaware that I knew much more than they did
And stop at the poolroom for a beer
And sadly say
ain't done brah"
"Okay, you're confusing me
I always see you in the hood
But you look like them white
Boys from Laguna beach
So what are you? A Thug
Lydia.
La la la La la la La la la La la la
Come along and see Buff'lo Bill with his lasso
Just a little classic by Mendel Picasso
Here is Captain
You'd see a little boy hugging on a black lab
'Cause after two weeks, he came back home
A lady going through stage four saying
"Thank you Lord,"
on the beach while we tanning down in Cabo
Sun kissed honey, body shaped up like a model
Locals covered me in gold, like I'm fresh from El Dorado
She tell me
the counter, so you call her
Ooh, this is on. Why don't you get this for me?
Every time you hit the swap meet, it's gimme, gimme, gimme.
A little old lady in
Fuck the law and fuck a cop
Middle finger to the system
They whisper my accomplishments
But yellin out my flaws
Talkin bout sum old shit
Boy thats
I saw a young white boy open up the door
For an old black lady who was walkin’ in the store
And it hit me, yeah, it me, things ain't all that bad
I
'cause now I'm all based out, ma dukes
(kid capri)
Oh man I like the way that's going down
Now why won't you do is kick a little freddie foxx
(freddie
Old boy Lyin' in the dark with a lightbulb
And a lighter in his hand like a pyro
Just can't put the thing down like an iPhone
Got too high flipped
sound
She grew up tall and she grew up thin
Buried that old dog Gideon
By a crepe myrtle bush in the back of the yard
Her daddy turned mean and her
you.
If there's somebody up there, could they throw me down a line?
Just a little guiding light to tell wrong from right.
Just some answers
packs to sell
And you take a little Em and Andre 3k, and guess what you got
The 2016 2Pac, back and improved
Back from the dead back on your ass, back
Offender of an undisclosed nature
He had a hairline like Saint Francis that he attempted to hide
By growing his hair to his feet and tying it back like
ya role, by the way tuck ya gold
And you and your mic can ease on down the road
Assholes are like opinions, everybody got to have one
Shootin' in
blowing on
Down that back road rodeo
Twenty in the tank
Thirty miles away
Down a little back road getaway
Well I gotta go (woah oh)
Back to the country
Back
to Jackson, Mississippi spittin' grammar (spittin' grammar)
From Shreveport ('port) down to New Orleans ('leans)
And all points in between just to get
my effigies
And lying to the referees and
Crying to the deputies
I'm thinking, "slow down, lady"
My rhymes dirty as the floor at the ho down
Baby
My
the Consumption of Myself fleg
Interviewed by a Guggenheim Recipient very
The Look one Night Stand
Poem to a Most Affectionate Lady
Parts of an Opera, Parts
Ladies and gentlemen, homosexuals, lesbians and transvestites
I am your platter spinnin' poppa, your woofer whopper
Your G-mosavé from the mohavé
Just Blaze... make it knock
Ladies if you walkin' through the mall and you hear some one go (whistle)
I gotta turn back at them and do the same
Bette Middler on a beach
Niggas get frozen crossing the chosen one
I clap you boys pass the nine to my foes and run
Leave you swollen like niggas in
over to the bar and there's a girl in the back
Hello there darling let's have a little chat
I'm a rapper by trade what you think about that?
But she
I throw my set rounds, I been at ups and downs
Anybody plays about it, my lady has sounds
Homie from the Nawf side, and I'm all about mine
Money
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