Lyrics:
I got a feeling nigga really that my money be the root
Look up at the stars she like honey where the roof?
Pull up hear the dogs canaries they goin
but she got much back)
Look at her butt (damn, damn)
(Look at her butt) (oh my gosh)
Look at, look at, look at
Look at her butt
Yeah, he love
never look
Getting money cause I can't afford to be broke
They was sleeping on the kid oh brother do i got them woke
No my name ain't Katt Williams they
it comes in handy
I once knew this bitch by the name of Candy
But he kicked her out because the punani was sandy
Saint Dog kicked her out, Daddy X
it comes in handy
I once knew this bitch by the name of Candy
But he kicked her out because the punani was sandy
Saint Dog kicked her out, Daddy X
want creating matter
Save your words energy wasted off the chatter
I'm high asf I'm in space William shatner
Standing tall til he got his back blown
She
is that even possible? For what?
Look, look, that's all I know right now, all right
I just got word of it, and I called you immediately
I don't really
on the out-of-work streets
Before he began to understand
Before he began to understand
And Joe got hired by a bowery bar
sweeping up the saloon
As his rag would
that's how it's gonna be
Para siempre
And look at me, leavin' today
On a seven-forty-seven boardin' JFK
The hydrants are open
Cool breezes blow
don't know but she might just have by baby
Ass so fat, got a nigga like woah (woah)
Got me fucked up in the head, I mean woah (woah)
Should've seen
We crew hoppers, twenty-in-a-group shoppers
Don't look at the watch unless
You got blue blockers
BBC boats where niggas is true yachters
I got an MBA
If you say it's a go it's a go
Just take pride in the fact that you know what you know
Cuz a pimp going to pimp
And a hoe going to hoe
How you look
you come to know Christ
How did you come to the right
Jesus Who's rockin' that white
Who's got His name on His thigh
Well I'm irked by the earth
Not
scratched
In fact, now that I think, back, I was gettin macked
by a tender, oh yeah now I remember
Vanessa from Maryland, aggressive and tanned
It was
I guess I'm on my... on my Don shit
Somebody gotta do it
Look, no more interviews
I'm not talking about this on a song, feature or interlude
He asked me why I be so fly, I ask him why he ain't
Man I'm popping all these colors Sherwin-Williams feel like paint
Why he always try to be me?
Stealing looks from my gram (Fuck on)
White toes, white sand. (Yea)
Bitches know it's how laying (They know)
I'm sorry what was you sayin (Wait what)
I got
here being no attention whore
I need niggas to look at these whips for every time we got those extension cords
God, I miss my big brother so much
He
I'll sit alone
In my lonely room
Everyday hustle like William
Yeah
Everyday hustle like William
I'm chargin' a chicken just for the verse,
can't feel that hardcore
Appeal that you're screaming
Maybe I'm dreaming
This ain't Christopher Williams, still some
MC's got to feel one
Caps, I got
He fucking up like Channel 4
I got some news for him
These my Jim Morrison flows
They bout to open doors for me
I tell a bitch hello
I love you
Now
win
Boo-hoo, someone grab the violins
Every time I try a ting, top bins like Haile when he sings
So of course they don't like me, I'm the king
an old Hank Williams song
Is the lonely, the lonesome, and the gone
There's a place down by the mall
But it ain't what you'd call a honky tonk
They
private jet with no cargo
That ticket made you poor
Baby said he got some money for me
So I hit the floor
And if it ain't about the money
Chuck the deuce
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