Lyrics:
the jeans, do it work, i'm tryin to get it perfect, world gettin rocked, by a girl, around the way
system on boom, I got rattle in the trunk, the drunk go
go put the ice on the wrist?
I aint cost me a dime showed a nigga my music he thought the shit sound legit (that shit sound good don't it?)
We went
say that he got woman but I bet he lied
I bet he lied
I bet he lied
You don’t resonate with all the music you provide
Play the part of being hard but
to you, but you can decide not to be reduced by them."
8) "Never whine. Whining lets a brute know that a victim is in the neighborhood."
9) "Be certain
be a ace to a K
but I don't love them hoes, that's why I never ever play
in the 9-4, I use to sell dope and holla at the bitch
but it's 9-5 so it's all
from Jers' and we don't play that shit
From the Clare down to North Bricks, all my niggas flipping chips
Getting rich even though it's hard
Trying
Yer tellin' fairy tales son
Kickin' New York like you the mothaf***in'' one
But I'm from Jers we don't play that s***
From the Claire down to North
half drug kingpin
Yer tellin' fairy tales dunn
"King of New York," like you the motherfuckin one?
But I'm from Jerz and we don't play that shit
From
the railroad track
The engineers seen him sittin' in the shade
Strummin' to the rhythm that the drivers made
People passin' by would stop and say
"My my, but
sittin' in the shade
Listen to the rhythm that the drivers made
The people comin' by they would stop and say
Oh my but that little country boy could play
Go
the tree by the railroad track
Oh, the engineers would see him sitting in the shade
Strumming with the rhythm that the drivers made
People passing by
From the life that we live in, the people that you see
You don't know, no, you don't know
All the lights, money, women, corrupted by his dreams
Take
Free all my guys, they gon call me collect
And we talk bout the music and how I'm up next
Hurt me so much that they locked in the system
They know that
pocus
Half the shit we do I can't include in a song
But I can fuck you to the beat when the music is on
We go together like a shoe and a sock
You got that
motion only the strong survive
But on the 6 or the 5
Live is how the sets used to be, at the Racquet
Ball Club with music by, Andre Hatchett
Or either
don't feed my demons
got this music in bones put that on my orthopedist
My flow hot, it's like I'm dripping with the hot sauce
Better than your local
get funky
That's the way, that's the way
That's the way hey, hey in the USA
There's still cowboys and indians at home on the range
But the cowboys
out your day to
Learn to play the game and
Never let it play you
Go and make a little change just
Know it might change you it’s painful
But notice that
askin' where's the record that the radio could play
And I was strikin' out for months, 9th inning feeling fear
Jeter under pressure, made the biggest hit
A common theme within my music's shit that fucking broke my heart
If I knew better ways of getting go of shit, I wouldn't start
Plus it doesn't help that I
nasty habits is snappin' to make the haters stutter
Stick and move pursue that funky Latin groove
That O.G. Style provides that shit is beautiful
Oh shit
of musical chairs
Line up the chairs and find all your friends
Someone stops the music
And you must be sitting or else you're out
That's what musical
of musical chairs
Line up the chairs and find all your friends
Someone stops the music
And you must be sitting or else you're out
That's what musical
(Intro Hook)
There's a Whole, World
Yeah (There's a whole wide world)
Funky shit in your local brothels, kehd (There's a whole wide world)
Get them
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