Lyrics:
yo' league, I smell like Creed, walk by and smell money
Fly them bales in right to your doorstep, that's mail money
Young bull did his first hit
gon' go on vacation
Wait, damn, okay that's way too far ahead of me
So I'm just tryna take it day to day if they would let a G, breath
Cop cars by
no drive-by's
We walked over
COB bandana tied to the end of the AR
Iller than they are, rhymes so sick
Give 'em the day off
This is the chaos, Nicolas
And her brain is easy to pick like faulty locks
She's awfully hot, asshole burning like Tabasco
She used to be thick, it's like where the hell her ass go
And her brain is easy to pick like faulty locks
She's awfully hot, asshole burning like Tabasco
She used to be thick, it's like where the hell her ass go
Yoda
A Florida, Pensacola
There's more to roll-a by Motorola
I'm in control-a, I hit the quota
I made this beat sound while
I was in Minnesots
Fuck,
the world fuckin' with big John
I'll knock his brains out if he got it on his mind
Lonely, lonely baby
Lonely, lonely baby
A lonely, lonely baby
I go by cola no soda I thought I told yaaaaa
Bitch I'm Cola fuckin D flip it around you know the name and that's on gang Ha!
Man I lost my miiiiiiind
split the wiggidy-water
[Chorus: x2]
You intrigued by the way, we do our thing
Do what?
Pick up the mic, hot, and make you swing
Say what?
Pick up
Fucking with my brethren, 10 years strong
And he put them dreads in, Silver John Long
But he's more like platinum, hold up, here's a napkin
Pick your jaw
music, Vince Staples or John Coltrane?
And when the sonics hit my eardrums, keep me from going insane
Keep the faith
I made it home
There's still peace
make the hit parade
You're number one in my heart
As long as I can play a part
Vegetarian by choice
Not by fashion
It's not so much what you eat
As what
to hit 'em
While his children be with 'em, bag drops
Slide up and twist 'em
Thirsty for clout on your laptop
That's how you get finished
Homie was cappin'
I'm walking up you be tucking your chain
We out for blood I be making it rain
Keep talking shit you'll get hit with the blade
Pick up a brick I ain't
Ayo check this out son
This is my man Nas Escobar
And I go by the name of Cormega you know
(you gonna get your self murdered)
Yo check this out
Bust it, la di da di, who likes to party?
Like Slick Rick the Ruler, I'm cooler than a ice brick
Got soul like those afro picks, with the black fist
Bust it, La Di Da Di, who likes to party
Like Slick Rick the Ruler I'm cooler than a ice brick
Got soul like those afro picks, with the black fist
the knots
Dummy got hit tryna spin through this block
Acting tough got him put in a box
Just smoking opps this shit hit like the za
Papers and front' send him
John gacy
U fat boi, Eddie lacy
Face messed up like you Beetlejuice
Uh shoot you in the head like John Wilkes booth uh
I gotta sleep, little bow peep
You
you retire
Hung your shoes from a telephone wire
So when I ride by, I brag on it
Paragraphs flower, toe tags on it
I plant a bomb where you pick
ride by, I brag on it
Paragraphs flower, toe tags on it
I plant a bomb where you pick your mail up
It's bricks, so why'all hit the fallout shelter
used to be
Well, I get into trouble, then I hit the wall
No place to turn, no place at all
I'll pick a number between a-one and two
And I ask myself,
your line, pick it up when I call
Pick myself up every time that I fall
On and off the court, nigga, I just wanna ball
Never go by what you heard, always
a telephone wire
So when I ride by, I brag on it
Paragraphs fly wit toe tags on it
I plant a bomb where you pick your mail up
It's bricks, so y'all hit
-8643.jpg/225px-John_Scofield_(cropped)-8643.jpg "John Scofield")
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