Lyrics:
keep they hands to theyself no more
I'm like, Hugh Hefner, you lesser, you just a
Wanna be me, you can't you faggot, you bitch
You coward, you clown,
if you had the key
Said I do need the money
So what we gone do
Pussy sweet like honey
Can't give it up for free
You call me boo
That's just not me
When
Prediction a long, long time ago
Selassie was neglected, tell me when?
Like the tales of the Messiah, yah
All over again
Garvey was rejected tell me
explaining
Like I owe it
Like a media obligation
But
It is not my occupation just to please you
Cause I would always put them first and it left me in last
Said
want me in her thighs
Lil bih so pretty, caught me by surprise
Makin her cream like a cherry on top
All in her feelings, now I gotta bounce
I got
make a whole lot of plays like ESPN, you know I get active
I get the work from the plug and I'm breaking it down, just like a fraction
Still in
one out here in this heat
Underground is where they'll be
Waiting, waiting just for me
There's a lot of people dancing downtown
Yeah, we all fall
feeling like y’all niggas need me,
Shit ain’t peachy you ain’t my brother I’m not the second like Luigi,
I’m always flattered when a offspring wanna be me
the World I ball like a ball team
I stack chips, call me Mr’s Rosteam
tricks is for kids, silly rabbit, your my offspring
Kim more anticipated than a Lebron
One time for the house
For the offspring of this rap music
Bangin' DDB and Tense with
The fatal grammatic for the people we die
Let me put you
girl she wanna eat me With a bowl and a spoon Aye
Dark skin the new light skin fool
White girls gone wild wanna
Fuck by the pool Aye
Dark skin the new
walk thru the valley with my ladder in flex
I'm the realest n***a in it I just happen to rap
I told them i'm meek mill offspring but they ignored me
not A lot of people
Think making money is about luck it's not
It's about becoming the kind of
Person that makes money
I like to think that if I lost all
a offspring...members of the 80's
Give surrender to his lady, get offended if she play me (whoa!)
I know...a lot of men are phony
You just looking for that homey that
I got Bobby by the pound, Whitney by the key
DJ Screw by the gallon, bitch the game belong to me
I got Bobby by the pound, Whitney by the key
DJ
out
I turned up my drip, I made that shit hot
Keep cooking that dope until 12 raid the spot
Now they pay me and they pay me a lot now they pay me
the whole world pass me by
Now I'm on my way
I'll need everything tonight
To let the whole world pass me by
Get paid
Work for the eight
Wait for the four
to believe, you can turn the page again
You lose your hope here, one by one
Listen to me, son, you've got nowhere to run
You are not perfect at anything,
to the morgue got you cremated gave your ash to the buzzards and they regurgitate it
Trial by fire hung jury dead witness
Stay away from me because I am
the beast bleed, enhance thoughts
like tossed trees 'cross the Earth three-fourths
Let my offspring feed all three, corpus delectis cost me
Lost and found
The City Bushman - In Answer to "Banjo," and Otherwise by Henry Lawson - Part B
WOULD YOU LIKE TO CHANGE WITH CLANCY -- GO A-DROVING? TELL US TRUE,
'Specially when you're sittin' on 20's they get nauseous
Standin' in the Azure with white Air Forces
You can catch me in the parkin' lot
Hollerin'
Lots of lovin', lots of lovin'
Lots of lovin', lots of lovin'
Lots of lovin', lots of love babe babe
A sweet serenade, sip lemonade
As we laid
red dress on)
Outa dat o-zo-mobile!
(tell me what I say)
Hafta go ta tia-juana now!
(I don't have it)
He should go to brown moses,
Way down in
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