Lyrics:
and count your
deeds cause its all about the big az.
[Chorus]
[Verse 3]
So come on and smoke with me its zig zag and mc showing the world how we
live life
(Mhmm, mhmm)
Frank Zulu The 3rd
What?
Yeah
Kick down the door cuz'
They didn't want to let us in (Whoa)
Kick down the door cuz'
They didn't want
wood from my bats
When they meet, where the fuck y'all at? Forreal
1, 2, X is comin' for you
3, 4, better lock your door
5, 6, get your crucifix
attention that can make her feel the difference
Just a small taste of what she's really missing
Uh
Young don from Houston Texas
Living wild and reckless
Momma
And now Ladies & Gentlemen, Lupe Fiasco
Filet mignon with my food stamps
Car cosigned by my mama
Medical card from Obama
Background check for
on the elevator, hops off the six floor
Knocks on the door of room 604
Gets greeted by the biggest pair of thighs you want to see
With a pair just like a mona
raised in LE3 Not E3
No sound bwoy will defeat me
Mans still blessed
Still think life is a test
I'm equipped with the skill and pen
Fuck them beg friends
Uh, GOOD Music, this our year
Backing drums by DJ Premier
Now let me count it down
Who the fuck up in here
Common, Don, Old G, battle rap, oh
That
a god, let me be strong
I'ma vote for you
Oh, I'ma vote for you
I came from the sticks, we called it the crick
Surrounded by rednecks, I still wanted
shotguns, you name it. All to try to save some of the last unspoiled virgin forest we have left anywhere in this country from being chopped down and turned
bullshit I'm goin' through
I be hopin' to make it through another day
Lookin' for another day to live my life
And please get away
I stay high
With my gun
down, heavenly guarded by hollow tip slug
Then crack down, on wannabe thugs adapt to gat sound
And bow down, slow the fuck up, see how my foul now
, heavily guarded by hollow-tip slug
Then crack down on wannabe thugs
Adapt to gat sound and bow down
Slow the fuck up, see how my foul now
Articulate,
Shutup yo, yo, yo, yo
My life's not right [check one]
My life's not right [check two]
My life's not right [check three]
Are you ready?
(You
the Master Gee
Well, my name is known all over the world
By all the foxy ladies and the pretty girls
I'm goin' down in history
As the baddest rapper there
mean, I feel you
I've got to keep on pushin'
I'm on the corner from sun up to sun down
Competition gettin' hectic, I'm headed for out of town
What I
'86 in a Le Tigre short sleeves
Lees, flip the cuffs up, gettin' fucked up
From Old E, Fresh Fest, niggas got hurt
100 niggas rush the door with
betray men
You screamin, I position, competition
Another day in the life, of the Commission
We got the real live shit from front to back
To my niggas
a grab her
They gon' be baggin' this shit from Houston to Alabama
Louisiana bound, bitch, we out here thuggin
Shoutout to H-Town, them thick hoes with no
Rihanna dropping Fendi baby staying on her hustle and I'm wit it
And if she wanna get litty we hit the door and hop in it
Now I'm ridin' down 10 (zooming)
I'm blessed
Even though I get slammed with lawsuits like car doors
See three P.O.'s like Star Wars
They want me by the road holdin' up cardboard
So
not
Fuck what I got, let’s talk what I’m getting’ your man on a mission.
Talk about money you feel like I’m dissin’
Live by the grind like it’s part
[Hook 2X]
[Verse 3: Tech N9ne]
Jelly sickle
Look at how that jelly trickles
Down his elbows
And you can smell those
Playa haters from Calabassas
man, made something from nothing
Picture working so hard, and you can't cut through
That can mess up your whole life, like an uncle that touched you
What
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