Lyrics:
of business put that pussy on my desk
Eat it until ya finish and this paperwork a mess
When you in the flesh got' damn I be thinking things
Thinkin' bout
No joke i'm a hella cold bloke
Tote dope quotes many fellas don't know
About this Venezuelan American individual
Experimenting on music with visions
a liq
Only fast money
Made it super quick
Girly tryna ride me
Can she drive a stick?
All she wants is paper
I'm not that type of nigga to date ya
No
different than our code for real girl (mmhmm)
The homie, streets, my momma said don't tell our business no no no
But I gotta fit in, keep up with it you
daddy's out of town so uhh, you can fuck around
It's okay to check in that Motel 6
$59.95, not a cent more for that dirty-ass hoe
Yeah, stop by that
Brown, jump if you want
I put it on my momma and her very last nerve
Ricky made off everything I deserved
The square root of a kilo is me nigga
The square
Cracking jokes like Jamie Foxx Looked over Seen my Fancy
Its something about a Island Girl...
I Value you like a Diamond Pearl...
Dark or Brown the Body
time for business
Everybody gotta go ain’t leave no witness
Knocking on my door won’t get you no treat
But upside down hanging by ya fuccing feet
Ain’t
They're selling postcards of the hanging
They're painting the passports brown
The beauty parlor is filled with sailors
The circus is in town
Here
to joke n****? laugh when you get blown up (come on)
See how funny it is when your kids ain't got no father
'Cause you played it sweet now you floating
They're selling postcards of the hanging, they're painting the passports brown
The beauty parlor is filled with sailors, the circus is in town
Here
on the rocks and just drink through the evening
This is poetry at its best believe me
Your crowns royal don't you see queen
And if brown take you down then based
Jermaine is the best
The industry fucked you, I'm just paying 'em back
What's the matter with slayin' jackers? That's all I've been doin'
Besides talkin'
Growing dreads out my head like a damn Rasta
Put the lead to ya head make some damn pasta
Bakers man making bread just not cibatta
I don’t really kno no
're supposed to care for
Are you insane
I'm asking as no one
Listen to my spell
It will send you to your hell
I don't even believe in hell
Do you
But hell is
half rasta you don't want no smoke better act like you got asthma
You cant tell me, even sway ain't got the answer
Pocket full of dead dead, feel like
the mirror for luck
Said don't you know
All those little
Brown-eyed girls
Want playboys of the southwestern world
Long around
Our eighteenth year
We
of these bums
Ok you first 'me ' no the guy with the thong in his head
You air head chop, chop time is ticking ahead
[AUDIENCE MEMBER 1]
Ok hi em hello my
ain’t no joke I’m only spillin’ the facts
Rest in peace to the fallen soldiers, wherever you’re at
We’re only guaranteed a casket, flowers and plaques
In
too, yeah)
Now I do it for my son
Everybody behind me like I'm the one (You is, nigga)
No strap gon' get it done (Brrt)
Double back but bring a ton
shit
If niggas gotta problem with the dollars I need often
Split em all with the impoverished
Smoking with my Rasta as we question just what conscious is
I'm pullin' my gat to make
A muthafucka fold up
In my Jag on my phone talkin' business,
Mac 10 to my dome Yo what is this
I'm tellin' him drop it
the Champagne
Dope my medication
7 grams I'm facing
God is amazing
Molded by the pain
I see through the fame
I still got my soul
I still use my brain
Lion
from the weed, experience brings wisdom until no more defeat.
Bitten once Bitten twice the joke is on me
You can't get my 3 points, see time has
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