Lyrics:
ourselves
We can't babble no more than we can bob our head offbeat
Nimrod by the time we forty cause we can't get off meat
While we ask no reason for
ourselves
We can't babble no more than we can bob our head offbeat
Nimrod by the time we forty cause we can't get off meat
While we ask no reason for
Living carefree laughing, got jokes on the daily
Y'all acting like some old folks y'all don't hear me
Yo I'm in my second childhood
"Cause when I flow
we rollin’
We bakin’ all year round
We stackin’ these bands
This cash in our hands
Our feet in the sand
We Grindin’
Stay Workin’ all-day
No games that
even open my mouth to speak
I bomb drop on those that
Be making y'all weak
24 hours a day, 7 days a week
I be the king from the
Streets of Hollis,
can reap back
You better believe proceed continue my mission
Hit you with the 5 Star it's so good really by far get up on par
Try our banana take
But head is the answer
Head is the future
Don't second guess yourself
Come on, give me some help
Hey one more time, band, I need y'all to help me
Run them bands up 1 by 1,
South deshon road gotta counts my funds
Told me I’d fall still think I’m the 1
You can judge me but I’m still God son
You
"At 8 you're a sucker, at 7 a motherfucker" (Repeat 4x)
10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4
3, 2, 1 reasons you'll never be this raw
My crew is representing for
anyway
Some booze head said we all will pay and we are in our judgment day
I'm strutting like there's nothing wrong
My head replays my favorite songs
I
from the gym
So I'm gonna swim
Build our own wave
Jet ski roars like
Rim rim rim
Bumping oldies with my crew
And I'm zoning out 'till surrounded with
will not harm you
Or maim you
(swat team 4, move in!)
The years was rollin' by . . .
He used to cut my grass . . .
He was a very nice boy . . .
are fresh
'Cos you're a fish and I'm a water sign
My laid-back pimp walk is linear by design
Gold fronts soul I shotee now watch you shine
Me and C-Know
We're the 7-A-3 this is our domain
And you're going want to know from whence we came
The pride of our race with the style and the grace
So you
till my bands is up
I took risks, cut bullshit, I let go
Now the checks comin in look like a zip code
In the history books is where we bouta be
Before I
Six Shell Productions
H-H-H1K
I can't feel offended (No)
'Nuff time my flick shank's been mended
(Mended)
Man's been 1-7
Ask them about corn man's
bright that evil can't hide
My lit crew you and I we're gunna bring liberty and truth to mankind
Fuckin rights and the lies we leave behind and the truth
coke right at my grannies
Man these streets is like Vegas tryna beat the odds
And all the homies that we lost I hope they meet our God (pray for them)
and walked on the moon
But time is still a mystery
We tried to label time by
Creating numbers and digit's
Seconds and minutes and hours
Are all just figments
Living carefree laughing, got jokes on the daily
Y'all acting like some old folks y'all don't hear me
Yo I'm in my second childhood
"Cause when I flow
it's four in the morning, suns set and seven minutes with you and it's heaven
Ain't an hour that rolls by, I love you 24/7, 365
Give you my name, if you
No limits 220 on the dash
Get me the job and I will get it gone fast
I will come in second but I will never be last
On go and my foot on the gas
I
the dresser, the gauge
Five-seven MB, yo, metallic green
Seats is piped off
Seize them old tracks, unite through 'em
The kitchen is my palace, get your dance
talk, so keep at ease
By any means, we get our product, pussy and paper
With tragic ends, at the finish of every caper
Don't blame us homie, cause it's
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