Lyrics:
mental i govern it, writing my every wrong
In every song, flow just as tight as Serena Williams gluteus inna thong
That's Ludacris huh, Mary J is how I
Yup!
1, 2, 3
As it is plan to see
I go by the name of Jermaine Dupri
Dope man fresh in the place to be
And uh
[Chorus]
Oh, I think they like
feeling myself Lately
Been calm but might turn William Gacy
Soon as anybody really try to Fucking play me
Superman crest
Stamped on my chest
Ain’t no steel
Gettin naughty wit a shawty with the bod o' Condoleezza
I'm a walkin talkin onomatopoeia
The Aurora Borealis of this oratory prowess
Spittin for more 'n
and then he hit my dab
He talkin like a caveman
Went and fucked this lil bitch I put a pep in her step
Brodie long range with the strap he'll get to shootin
Oklahoma, shit Serena Williams thick
Off this nine, yeah, whole clip in, but this four-four I gotta get (brrt, brrt)
Head huntin', I could press red
to really get in where the towel wet up
Looking fly-lee, beauty by T
She wanna know the answer to the question, why me?
We walking through the telly where
The only billionaire, playboy
Philanthropist on the block
Kidnapped by terrorists
He ruined their entire plan
Turned a box of scraps into
A fully-suited Iron
of the Year" and figured I was on track
This nigga Pat' been in my ear talkin' 'bout rhymin' on tracks
So after practice we record and then we got it on wax
enough lee-way
To put out The Reason by the Mac, Philadelphia Freeway
And I'm back, without leavin' I'm here, but you can't see him
I gave you
the pack, this is a marathon
You start off fast then you weezin' in the back
So even if I slack, I got enough lee-way
To put out The Reason by the Mac,
BE CAREFUL WHO YOU LOVE (ARTHUR'S SONG)
WRITER HARLAN HOWARD
RECORDED BY HANK WILLIAMS JR. AND BY MARTY STUART
The old guitar picker
really talkin'
Talkin' over, talk it over
Renegotiate and make the play and they cough it over
I crossed over like opposite when he dropped the shoulder
paid by Spike Lee
Moving so slightly, nigga smooth as ice cream
Swimming in the money, come and find me, pisces!
Muthafucka talkin shit I kick him in his
running straight through my head
Lights red, and I can't make moves, I work hard
And I thought it would have been nice to buy papa dukes some shoes
(Red Dirt On The Beat) Dorien you know why you're a rapper?
It's cause you have three tattoos, red cup, dreadlocks, and headphones
Damn, hold on...
hey ride me like a rodeo
Go up down, round & round ride me like a rodeo
Go up down, round & round ride me like a rodeo
Written By: William Wheeler, Mr
Hey guys, let's do one of those no melody songs
That'll be so cool
Julian's angry
I'm the, uh, I can't even speak bro, honestly
I don't even, I
she mop it (mop it)
She lick it, she top it
The bitches, they swappin' (swappin')
Don't try me, it's by me (by me)
Feel me, it's on me (on me,
Cause this can be a drive by
Yeah you is dead nigga
Fill yo blokk with red nigga
Fill yo face with led nigga
And you heard what i said nigga
All that
video ho
I passed up a whole bunch of one-night stands
By talkin' too much like I was tryin' to be their man
I won't make that mistake again, mark my
lee
Since a youngin I been hoopin on concreet
My wrist is sponsored by fiji and nestley
Letter b on the keys its a Bentley
Yea we got the piece
Let me
It's been awhile since I've graced the stage
Allow me to now turn the page, I got a story for you
It's about a young R.e.D writing rap songs
to the tape, bitch
It's take two, watch this, we locked in
Set the tone, set the story, just like he what when
Your mind will melt to butter by like three songs
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