Lyrics:
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
Play that funky music
Play that funky music, white boy
Play that funky music
Play that funky music, white boy
I'm back and I'm ringin'
change
In an age where the art justifies intellects
My campaign strives to re-elect the man who got struck by the bow and arrow
You're at yours to truly
get heaters to the dome, don't weep
You on fleek? Shut your lip
Petty little puppets, but they claiming to be free
What I gotta do to make a mufucka
hit by flying lead
You've not been hit by flying lead
You'd better close your eyes
You'd better bow your head
Wait for the ricochet
Ooh, ooh,
said he had some work for me
He said
He said what you doing this music for, I got news for ya
If you don't sell your soul to me
Then you just gon' ruin
breath rushes out of your mouth. Exercise your presence in your breathing and tune in to connect with your intuition.
Your consciousness in your out
that mouth do
Bring your friends so I could see what they're about too
I not happy with my life
Since my moma died
All that pain I have inside
People
your soul to me
Then you just gon' ruin your future, bruh
See, I just cracked open this Goose
And I mixed that elixir with juice
Then I was
still handled my biz
Elbow strike to the temple fuck with your mental
Eye gouge so its hard to find out where I went to
Groin kick so there's no next
(go)
You only get one shot, do not miss your chance to blow
This opportunity comes once in a lifetime
You better lose yourself in the music
(go)
You only get one shot, do not miss your chance to blow
This opportunity comes once in a lifetime
You better lose yourself in the music
your mouth
And fuck the south
Running with a gang of twenty street hoods, yo
What's up, bitch, ah, what's up, ho?
Sometimes you act like you ain't
first so the biz can last
Instead, the biz went to
Hell and got infiltrated
By them mainstream infidels
So here to settle the score
Blow up the track
To settle down
With a man of your own
You want a baby
A family
A piece of security
Shut your mouth
Try not to panic
Just shut your mouth
If you
hii time boy, na burn hizi bridge boy
Fam usiwai play urself over some champ change
Ku jaribu reach deep in my pockets with your short hands
Biz ilikua
the fed hack into it, they get bossed on like I'm Massachusetts
Sitting in this Maybach with music
Your head is like Mustard beat and I'll put the ratchet
enough
I come up to your job and handcuff your boss
Throw that nigga in the closet and turn the lights off
Then sit you up on the copy machine
Make
mind fucked
I keep on keeping on
Music got my soul clutched
Ride with me, smoke dope and vibe with me
Get stoked the by the way I rap
Native pride get
got the
fever for the flavor of a single see me and
Shady I think we got it locked down shocked
by the sound I got you crusin' with your
top down these
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
doin it to
Lay up, lay back, in my room with a view
Wanna handle my biz on the low, keep it respectable
Make my music, keep it professional
I know
be in the music scene
Make it through connects and not with dreams
Labels will change you to what they think
That will make profit without a blink
Is
Kenny
When my pockets get fat as Cartman
I can write it and produce it
Turn silence into music
With nobody's help all by myself
I can do it at a level
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