Lyrics:
favourite dishin'
Fish 'n' Spaghetti
For you to die, I wasn't ready
And life after death, ain't been so fresh
B-I-G, G-I-E
Still a motherfuckin' king
retreat
I doubt you even live here still
But it quickens up the pace of my heartbeat
When I find myself by accident
On 22nd Street
All the years,
remorse hit by the hardcore fo' sho'
Leave him stuck in his front seat
70 rounds through his front window
Ain't no fuckin' with G's
Fill 'em up to they
too solid in this bitch with all my brothers
Can't change for no cash nigga
How I'm still on top even at your spot
I pulled up last minute
Don't act
Im in this bitch with all my jewelry on
I swear to god
And i got that glock on me just incase some shit go wrong
Its tez by the way
We come to your
I'll be the first to tell y'all I still need the blood
It's like I had to quit just for me to get up, you know
Doin' the same thing over and over, my
The only way you get attention is by saying my name
And you can never take my spot lil nigga so why bother
All this hate towards me when you should be
love - roll back
Cop my first gold plaque, soon as my man blew
Still spittin' the fly, hits you can't do nigga
You ain't gainin', you game in, barely
for that it's going down
I can't sit in one spot I be moving around
I'm cool with the pot I ain't cracking a smile
From running round the house now I'm
can't be stopped, too hot
Check the spots that we got on billboards
The tank can set up roadblocks, we fadin' all you hoes
Want some mo'?
Then
can't be stopped, too hot
Check the spots that we got on billboards
The tank can set up roadblocks, we fadin' all you hoes
Want some mo'?
Then
Twitter was a trendin' topic (ayy)
I was on the block with thirty shots and Glocks had the spot hoppin', dummy (Swerv')
But they actin' like they don't
a couple G's down by the lake
Hell yeah I got 'em but they'll be straight
[Verse 2 - Pimp]
We be 6 deep creepin'
In a Deville sittin' up on D's with
with your pride but you'll Never ever show
You living by the line but you'll be Reaping what you sow
And the X it mark the spot, so now You leaving with
for anything, that's not what I'm on
High school, I had my own spot
I'm on my shit, I'm not a bitch by a long shot
Pops led by example and I was right
young bulls mind
he was boring a lot
gang aint been about we been touring a lot
my Park lane niggas still scoring a lot
feds just raid a spot we were
hand out
If dey play wit dat gang den dem bastards get gunned down
I remember my homie was homie
Now when he see me he turn around
I can’t fuck wit dat
stupidity
By the way, you gangsters should know
One of your victims was a three-year-old girl
Well, you gang members, you
Still don't get it, do ya?
(With
to get down
Stimulate my imag-ination with exag-geration
Of stanking light
That can't be right but we laughed
To keep from crying, sighing
Hugged by
on the block
That the cops trying to lock you for
Can't believe you blowing the spot, lord, my chick is bugging
You tripping, my dick keep slipping out my boxer
airplay and a spot on TV
Like Ed Lover and Doctor Dre from Yo! MTV Raps
A show, mainly for the black
And still we can't ill, cause to them that's wrong
on to the beat
Pass that shit right my way still feel spaces jammed right under my feet
Still trying to find my way
Saurah still trying to g on some trees
None
still in the grind
G's up hoes down
Trust I'm a blaze for mine
You just another nigga
Another rapper
Waiting to go pop
I'm still in the grind
G's up hoes
the art
But I still need a spot, On top of the charts
By the end of this song, Ima prove myself
N I'll do what it takes to improve myself
I'm not tryin'
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