Lyrics:
u*, blow your back out
You bad mouth, make 'em all believers
Throwing rocks from a glass house, y'all ain't perfect either
See that c***** and that
(Yeah, what was that?) Ayo
That bitch belch like a stinking hog
There's some like, two flies came out your mouth with no wings
Stinking bitch
Fuck off,
rhythm in the static of your samples
Quick to make you move to my groove as I sooth
The ear of the listener on the musical
Prisoner G, now you're free
message, I'ma ah touch a couple lives
Word of mouth is great, tell a friend to tell a friend
Tell them Google up my name with that music on the end
Now
either you're a boy or a girl they predetermine your sex
Before you were even born they plan your murder and death
To make sure you never make it to your
sling with Trisha, but she think that it's a date
Early presidential, but it's punchin' in your face
I put diamonds in my mouth, now I'm talkin' outta
by my battalion
F.V.R.A, the presidential stallion
No more anger, RudeMan is hanging it
A true tough guy, don't deal with all that gang sh*t
Slang
to see the growth of D and I's biz
Even though we're just some kids
We hope to have our names in your mouth
And when you're at our shows
Make sure you
do down south
(Hundred dollar bills?) with furniture in they mouth
If you like it, I love it, when its dry as a drought
If you dig it, I dug it, be
get high off iz
and Make the Music With My Motherfuckin Mouth like Biz
to rip apart all clicks that got heart
Make em talk into my boot like Maxwell
spouse
Should be harder to find
Than diggin' in your couch
Looking for your car keys
Give it back with a sensitive
Mouth and some hard knees
From gettin'
patrollin the strip
Two Lz, man, take em
Man stepped on the farm with wellies
No fire, just water, beggin' machetes
You say the life chose you
But your marj
allowed to fuck, ho, I'm in show biz
Sets in the hood want me for dead
So I paint my tag on they forehead
Stick your little 'kay by my taggin'
You can fit
records play
On the strength of what it is, not the finesse of your biz
And your lady calls you dirty, her dirts under rugs
You'll find out only if she
thanks
For the face that launched a million pre-teen skanks
You were a virgin, that had to be hard
You've had more bones in your mouth than a St. Bernard
Da winner - Da Goat
Song writer : Charles Kelvin Bakker
(Rich flow instrumental )
(Instrumental by prod. Danny)
(Verse 1)
One life to life
So imma
spazzed out, G-String divas
Leave you assed out, passed out, it's cold
Pack your heat up, blow your back out
You bad mouth, make 'em all believers
might go to hell cuz I'm down with Esham
Gotta rhyme for your Uncle Willy
Then I hit him in the head with a Billy
Willy, Willy, watch your mouth
And fuck
that is the industry's offended
When I made your labels dusted by a fucking independent.
Strange music, dude, fuck if you believe in it.
Don't know
A Nigga really think he the loudest
A Nigga really think he the strongest
Now who could rap tightest the longest
Make contact and still get the bonus
What
look
And I agree with them.
We think your songs might need a better hook,
I promise on the good book, it won't hurt,
I won't get it in your mouth.
I
need
I need money, I don’t need no stress
Got your girl on my music, she wet
Drip
Splash
So much money I’d open a bank
That’s the plan my vision is
And matter fact
If I could go back
I wouldn't
Instead
I'll be the bigger person
That's keeps everything moving
You said I couldn't
Take your doubts
And I'll
the plan, now check out schematics,
Future says I will suture, and leave you all imbalanced,
Makes difference no challenge, purest of hearts with no malice,
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