Lyrics:
message'll mess up by the end
They'll hear that dababy's da future while I'm da fuckin' friend
Sheesh, I don't mean to look
You just hotter than bobby when he
Look
I'm so raw
Turn the oven on
Chef Papa John
I get the Parmesan
She want ah yellow nigga
Corn on the cob
Indian giver
Slob on my knob
Look what you done to me
Look what you did
Look what you done to me
So in studio today we have -uh,
Singer, rapper, recording artist by the name
yeah, struck a nerve, sucker
Motherfucker, might as well let my lips pucker
Like Elton John, 'cause I'm just a mean cocksucker
This shit is on, 'cause
Homie fall back yeah (better fall on back)
When I come by by
I'm swervin' in and outta lanes
With the double paint
My shit spreadin' like the plague
a soldier
Got 'em hopping over walls and climbing fences
Some of 'em John Travolta, stayin' alive by inches
(Hello darkness, my old friend)
Cops are
Feeling like I'm John
Like a wizard doing magic
You know I ain't having it
You know I ain't no Kaepernick
Shock em' like I'm Static
I be wreakin' havoc
I feel like Lil John When he wrote bia bia
My girl is bad as Tamera
Nah she badder than Tia
I'm just a rapper in a Kia Ahh ahh ahh
Aye look I had
Every time that you needed me
I should have known better, gave my time for free
Now it seems like somethin's off
Come back tomorrow and see if I'm soft
the street jumped off
The car in 9-0 I was wearing all white capisque had my 501's, five dunkie rolls
Couldn't be saved by john the pope the m-a-c and k from
the baddest bitch gay y'all
Like stacy, damn, she was eatin' tracy's ass
At this other lady's pad
To get it on I had to call up desert storm
My cut-throats scar
with lipo's
You annoy me John, your fuckin' nuts, I know
So that's why I roll up on you like five-0
Look at Kendrick man, he's one of my idols
I would
look back or I turn to salt
Got nice watches nice cars nice bitches and rings
Guess it's safe to say a nigga like me got nice things
Can't relate
need a switch I ain't lil durk
John 15 I'm reading the verse (I be doing that)
Still I, can't do it by myself
Running towards the belt, need a little
do be
You get touched more than frisked by club security
Lovely, what it look like?
My sons run stuff
Every time I touch a mic you want to,
Oops cause they killed the doctors
Put em on trial
Like john proctor
1692
Like the crucible
When you tell the news
You die
Like Tim Russert up in his
forbidden, par, pay that tax
And don't you ever look at us funny
Boy, we'll bring rap back
And that'll hurt you like Superman chased by a group of men
With
saying I've been trying to do it for a long long time
I get jealous when I see people do it and it's like fluid
I'm thinking
How can they swallow that
do like John and let it be
Poet's poet but you know that I was po' as Edgar be
Devil wanted my soul, but the soul resurrected me, on God
Live by
son
And the only bullets by my stomach be the clip from my gun
And when my gun, busts it's over so close the curtains
My silencer's like ch-ch-ch
Ain't no love in Oakland, bitch
Niggas always talkin bout 'I love you'
But ain't no love, bitch
Now it's a shame, I can't be saved by John
We were so close yet so far away
Used to turn to dad and say
Can we see John today
To go an watch back to back of the phone shop
Once we going we
put the pressure on my tongue
I sit by myself and look inside the mirror on occasion
Thank god for my body every feature is amazing
I don't need nip
on your ass, could never not chase a bag
Like you was looking through the window, they gone view a nigga
And when she go down make her look up just to view
-8643.jpg/225px-John_Scofield_(cropped)-8643.jpg "John Scofield")
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