Lyrics:
Boi . . .
[Layzie]
Mind of a souljah, mind of a souljah, release and feel me
Everybody by now should know my label, my thugsta
These things guidin'
that I’m gone,
But i made it back home,
I’m up in the spot,
The shop,
Slang in these cameras on camera,
&& packin the chrome,
Cameras on cameras,
I feel
walkin' backwards though you know its wrong
And lonesome comes up as down goes the day
And tomorrow's mornin' seems so far away
And you feel the reins
Double my cup, wait, Wock' on my seat (damn)
Switchin' these lanes, got her face by my knee (her head)
Two-hundred ain't shit to me (nothin', nigga)
I
Danger, tell these babies there's no
Space in the manger anybody get rude
I send for the head top rearranger
Go home and do the math
I'm Jme multiplied by
these dirty adolescent's
Spillin hella cool-aid on my K-Swiss
Hey bitch are you finished?
Grab this bottle, and poured hella drank in it
He was drunk, so
the nighttime
The gang, we come alive out the moonlight
We just some demons walkin' around past midnight
Follow me, follow me, follow me
These women be callin'
Won't be won't be long till i take off
And have all these girls tryna show me what there made of
Surrounded by cake just like the great british bake
a problem keep my name out your mouth
Cause these boot spurs are freshly mounted
And I ain't afraid to sleep in the County
If you want a problem we can get it
are
Against saying what we want to say the right way
ya know what I'm saying, so what we're gonna do
Is kick back, swing a little funky beat by my
“300 000 dead today”
“History made on Wall Street today; a huge rally! The Dow Jones Industrial climbing over the 30 000 point milestone for the first
Oh-woah, oh-woah
Ayy, you know Cxb, he go crazy
(Xclusive made this)
Different diamonds dancin', new designer fabrics
Why I'm so attracted, can
Uh! He heh
Master P and Treach nigga
It's all family baby
Get them Naughty boys I got the No Limit Soldiers
And when we posse up these
streets, know what I'm sayin'?
While he on tv, I'm in these streets
And then my broad, my kid walkin' around singin' it
Boy, if they sing another verse, boy
I was workin' and workin' for low Now I'm duckin' and duckin
Them hoes, puttin' boot to the motherfuckin' floor
Tryna put all the boys in the rolls
most definitely from
In New York,
Concrete jungle where dreams are made of
There's nothin' you can't do
Now you're in New York
These streets will make
most definitely from
In New York,
Concrete jungle where dreams are made of
There's nothin' you can't do
Now you're in New York
These streets will make
Yeah, Hit-Boy
CHOMP 2, CHOMP 2
5 AM in Atlanta, I'm writin' raps
Sometimes I'm fightin' for my dreams but it seems like they fightin' back
High Hopes lyrics and music by Doug Warriner
Walkin down the road in a dead mans clothes im an almanac and boots
Im doing all i can to be a man
green
Is when you get dissed by a kidnap magazine
I give a fuck about these mothafuckas
I'm doin' this jam to save my hip-hop brothers
Get your
programmable
Look into how the imperial west made you susceptible
We are sitting at a precipice of history
But it doesn't seem a moral compass is a necessity
wanted was a stripper in my bed
These were my thoughts... now these are my thoughts
You don't believe in God who made your life force
When there's war
and vicious pack of rats
These rats have no fear
They trained for weeks... months... years
Joy and laughter, heartache and tears
Rats will penetrate your
This a special dedication, (thank y'all)
I wanna thank you for the fuel
No really thank you
(Y'all better hear this shit)
I felt so inspired by
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