Lyrics:
Ayo sweetie, you're lookin' kinda pretty
What's a girl like you, doin' in this rough city?
I'm just here, tryin' to hold my own ground
Yeah, I
Ayo sweetie, you're lookin' kinda pretty
What's a girl like you, doin' in this rough city?
I'm just here, tryin' to hold my own ground
Yeah, I
style is done
Yeah check it out y'all
Props goes out to Rosa King
Props goes out to Ben Herman
Props goes out to my man Kunta Kinte
heat that's spoken
Tripping I'm in and out my minds still open
Swimming I'm bout to drown my thoughts still floating
On the edge something and they
Check it out now
I work the pen to make the ink transform
On any particular surface the pen lands on
The camera stands on, what's the beef?
Check it out now
I work the pen to make the ink transform
On any particular surface the pen lands on
The camera stands on, what's the beef?
Check it out now
I work the pen to make the ink transform
On any particular surface the pen lands on
The camera stands on, what's the beef?
wonder why they call me Unky?
'Cause I'm sellin' all this smack to your favorite Auntie
Uh, get it in in by any means, I love them bluef face hunnids
My
I'm from that magic city, magic city
Cuhz thought I was woody like he had a fuckin' friend in me
You ain't no kin to me, nigga, you lost just like this
of the children
Uh
Kept it trill no gimmicks
Every project Guinness
World record image
Holy like Mecca entrance
Niggas this that shit you playing back
I've
the door no more, no more.
See we losing this world we love
And it looks like the sin that won't end
So I'm reaching high up above
Lord let your
DN-AAAAAAA swirling in and out the streets,
All this fucking hurt is steady pile up on me
Don’t make me turn this bachelors degree into a first degree,
him again
That ain't true
Yeah it is
The real world is really unreal and
No none of that's true
While the wildest
You're just making this up to scare
world that
Does not die is money
You can kill me, you can kill them
You can let everyone die
The only thing in this world that
Does not die is money
You
broke necks
They chest wet by the flame on, the fucking black tech
Now who's next, For this Lyrical fuckin' service
Niggas masterbate the skills as if
seven hundred feet
Below sea level
In a vacance surrounded by hills and mountains
The inter change between the cold upper air
From mount Herman
If everybody in the U.S.A
Could come with us to Californ-I-a
We could take 'em to a place out west
Where the good sun shines everyday
Now there's
Sorry mum don't blame me I ga no choice to fight back the devil by my self don't worry I ga backup
FUCK This World with the fucking people in it
I'm not
against the world
Ooh yeah
I got nothin' to lose
It's just me against the world, baby
I got nothin' to lose
Could somebody help me? I'm out here all
against the world
Ooh yeah
I got nothin' to lose
It's just me against the world, baby
I got nothin' to lose
Could somebody help me? I'm out here all
locks
She calling me money machine
She know that I handle a lot
Got a honey by the name of Mary Jane
And She got me thinking out the box
I met a venda
and turns and turns, haha,
This for the soldiers out there involved in the everyday struggle
Hopin' to bubble, keep on hustlin', as the world turns
Money
By this 'Property Management Company'
That wouldn't fix it
We asked "Can we fix it?" "No you can't"
Don't even start, if they own the land
You can't
Hell nah, I'm just plotting on this bag
If a stupid nigga want it, swear I'll empty out this mag
I ain't never been the type to be jealous of what they
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