Lyrics:
(up & down when I'm rollin')
Up & down when I roll in
Say I should make you my world and spin you round & round
Bunnin' on that loud when you make that
Yo, Mona Lisa, could I get a date on Friday?
And if you're busy, I wouldn't mind takin'
Saturday-ay-ay, ay-ay-ay
Round up di posse, Fugee comin'
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
cars by the three's, Bitches call me papa Johns 'cause I keep that extra cheese
Overseas in the sun, livin' for the fun in Milan with some bad bitches
Space I got round to
Acted when I fee it
In how I see it
You be it if you be it
Started out in crooklyn
Butters word
Chill, chill, chill, chill,
exercise
I get extra from whipping up extra pies
I'm in a hood like the mayor 'round election time
Here's a suggestion don't park your car next to mine
(Ludacris) Verse 1
I just touched down in killa Cali,
Strapped up my boots,
Got scooped up by Game,
So I hopped up in the coupe,
Gaah, What up
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
profile
- He hung up so fast I had to press redial
All I heard was a female voice say smile
The email said I hd to be in town by eight
The clock on the wall
no beginner, I mastered the style I evented
Learned how to handle my business
Palm trees, drank filled up with bomb weed
Khaki shorts and long
of the maniac dressed in black carry round a strap
Kid you play me too close (slow down and catch a cap, POW!!)
Cause I don't play games, an outlaw like Jesse
different now I'm spitting and
Everybody's just spitting
And what it sound like
When everybody sound alike
What you sound like
Bumpin' 'em on a round mic?
I
spitting and
Everybody's just spitting
And what it sound like
When everybody sound alike
What you sound like
Bumpin' 'em on a round mic?
I don't even sound
of the maniac dressed in black carry round a strap
Kid you play me too close (slow down and catch a cap, POW!!)
Cause I don't play games, an outlaw like Jesse
Please do not waste my time
By laying out the rules
If you're so intellectual
Then you belong in school
Rebop the beebop, do it doggy-style
I like
in the eighth round
By spelling breakdown
From the beat & the rhyme tone, jump in the cyclone
Styles, yes i know
We're the ... team, maxime....
Put 'em
ambush like a dirty douche in ya tush
When I push, push up in ya bush
Superstar status, break off beats, the baddest
Style's the baddest, bring extra clips
Don't be selfish with the drink
Shit she broke my heart give me the bottle
I can tell you want it by the moonlight
Hit you style wild because ya
but she just want my stick
30 Round she put the pole on her hip
She love my style she say she love my drip
Bussdown when I'm hitting it from the rear
Got you counting from on to ten
And by the time you get up to nine, your ass is left behind
Cause you can't mess with the lyrical master rhymes
Send
it's real niggas 'round
One more time, let 'em drown, let 'em drown
May you never back down
Real niggas back in style
Comin' through, if it's fuck me
nuh style thief har like chess
Pull ina jet see mi ah faucet
Henny by sets, money by decks
Club me ah rep, dawg watch dah gyal deh shhhh
Stop eh
she staying up by room, suite 112
Telling me i could have any way that i want it
I'm getting excited by her talk she know I'm on it
Started at ya bottom
where the days go by
And the glances never meet the eye
It's a walking town
And I'm just out here walking 'round
Walking 'round this walking town
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