Lyrics:
You know I love that organic cooking
I always ask for more
And they call me Mr. Natural
On down to the health food store
I only eat good sea salt
crazy
But it's a Darkside, it's what you made me
No more Mr. Nice Guy - pay me
What you niggaz owe before I come for your babies?
[DJ Premier
trombone
Looking down on 'em like R.C. drone
Mr telephone man give 'em dial tones
I ask what would you do like John Quinones
If your girl got boned by a big
Hey Mr CEO tell me what you see
When you're sitting by your pool
In your gated community
Do you see the tired woman
Picking up your trash
Do you see
Quirky side
I'm persuaded by the Bible, Mr john (John)
Sold his exegesis from Geneva
Switzerland, but it's crazy, Though
You put what you know to the five
to get in ya drawers
I run the city of cars, they call me Mr. Diddy, the boss
You know me, the only G to willy a porshe
We get dough in all land
town
Under the bucket that goes down
No one knew of it but three:
Mr Grant, Davis and me
Don't blame me
Don't blame me
I swear by God it is
puller
Do you back up what you say you do?
Or Mr. Shoulda-Woulda?
Do you give back to the hood you from?
Or run, go to the jeweler?
When you got beef,
you do about Willy Mays
Martin Luther King
Olatunji
Well, the funniest woman I ever seen
Was the great-granddaughter of Mr. Clean
She takes about
you do about Willy Mays
Martin Luther King
Olatunji
Well, the funniest woman I ever seen
Was the great-granddaughter of Mr. Clean
She takes about
surrounded by this shit
Make it I jump out of it
Boy if you wanna test me I'ma knock ya like I'm Holyfield
Stop it
Please just stop it
You the type a' dude
you with it, you done
I'm a keep it a 100, you better get you a gun
Word bond real talk, do my dirt all by my lonely
'Cause them suckas will talk
I'm
cars by the three's, Bitches call me papa Johns 'cause I keep that extra cheese
Overseas in the sun, livin' for the fun in Milan with some bad bitches
featuring Blake see Jay Z Mr. Bristal
[Blake C]
What you sayin'?
Roc A Fella (uh huh)
Gener al (uh huh)
B.I.G. (right on)
combat
Fuck you losers, while you fake jacks I makes maneuvers
Like Hitler, stickin' up (Jews) with German (lugers)
The Mr. Meth-Tical from Staten
combat
Fuck you losers, while you fake jacks I makes maneuvers
Like Hitler, stickin' up (Jews) with German (lugers)
The Mr. Meth-Tical from Staten
Lala I feel like Mr anthony
I ain't from Ohio but I
Buck at hoes randomly
I put that cain on em like Danity
On the canopy, man I did it for my vanity
You
Anybody here, seen my old friend John, can you tell me where he's
Gone?
Were at the Trademark, the motorcade is coming by here, I can see many
Many
But don't let a nigga get got out the ghetto
'Cause you know gettin' caught out the ghetto
Is a motherfuckin' no-no
'Cause you'll meet Mr. Boot, Mr
to act different
I'm Mr. Big Banc Uchie Face, nigga, I'll slap niggas
I'll put some cash on you, I'll double back on you
Watch how you talk to me,
new york
To break it down to straight english, what the fuck you want?
Remember me? you punk fagot crab emcee
Get your shit broke in half for fucking
you with it, you done
I'm a keep it a 100, you better get you a gun
Word bond real talk, do my dirt all by my lonely
'Cause them suckas will talk
I'm
started cozying up with Ed Posey, John took flight
Now he's playing cards in Austin, hoping that some guy named Watson blows his mind
Mr. Please!
Play
to yo streets (Honey)
Who you know when ya body like me
Like me, like me (Honey)
Who you know when ya body like me
Like me, like me (Honey)
Hey I'm John
-8643.jpg/225px-John_Scofield_(cropped)-8643.jpg "John Scofield")
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