Lyrics:
and animals two by two
Give me the needle
Give me the rope
We're going to melt them down for pills and soap
Four and twenty crowbars, jemmy your desire
Out
a song out it
Now, if someone will give me
A number between 20 and 22
I?ll show you, what I mean, 21
That's very good, first time, 21
Well, 21 take away
On the block, listening to Buckshot in the trap
Twenty four hours a day
Focus your attention, not to mention the fact
Yeah, I’m high off
go
Next by a glocc bitch im uppin a pole
Bitch call me billie cause bitch im tha goat
Yo bitch see tha flash nd she strikin a pose
This shit that im
There's a bullet in my ass, ah"
Ted kennedy, good senator, but a bad date
You know what I'm saying, folks? One of those guys who gets home
At four
Running up bands with a nympho
Bitch make a trick lay down like a kick door
Big hemp rolled full of indo
You can smell it when you walk by a nigga
laughing
On 83, by 82, would've been 81
In the 80's they made money by hustling anyone
79 flows, got 78 more
I think I got around 77 songs that I wrote
It's
turning to red like the leaves
We should think about shopping, but instead we are stalling
We've got twenty-four days to Christmas
To Christmas
Open
I learned how to be patient some of the
Worst kids ever were there ever no
Words could describe what it was like living
Twenty-four-seven with someone
ain't callin' I'm bout puffin' as I
Choke to the chronic smoke
You see me comin' you hear the music
Joggers walkin' by I'm still drivin' twenty-four
O's in a key, everybody free
Murder One felons with the glocks, twenty-four hours on the block
Bodies gettin' dropped, five thousand n****s actin'
don't want what's goin down, you freak them to the sound
The bass was steady poundin, you dropped it to the ground
Hypnotized by the (dee-jayyy) when he
to yo' car
You don't want what's goin down, you freak them to the sound
The bass was steady poundin, you dropped it to the ground
Hypnotized by
racks and put coats on them kids backs?
It's thirty degrees outside (Gangsta, Gangsta)
Twenty four, how could I ask for more?
I got my deals, gettin'
for bail, son
Making collect calls, expecting that mail, son
Doing push ups in a six by four cell, son
A hard head makes a soft tail, son
And my
for that)
Brown paper bag (we the best)
Just pulled over in my 7-5
Big bottle on the dash, hope he let me slide
Got 20 in the trunk you can bet me
straight by the book-G Code
Bad bitch, a flat stomach, fat booty, deep throat
Twenty grand in my pants, fifty in my peacoat
Jeezy fuckin' with me and we
Is y'all ready for Twenty-0-7, it's now another drought
Everyone's a killer, wow we bugging out
Since 86 showing the crowd what I'm about
And they
Is y'all ready for Twenty-0-7, it's now another drought
Everyone's a killer, wow we bugging out
Since 86 showing the crowd what I'm about
And they
able to control this?
I know some fok' that live by the levee
That keep on telling me they heard the explosions
Same shit happened back in Hurricane
call it po-po
You wanna hold some bucks, hit my nuts bitch
Hold those bitches by the bus load
Drugs by the boatload
See an opp, duck four, watch him drop
big
I be stuttin' on that ass
Screech pop up out the dash
Beep, beep, who got the keys to the Caprice?
4/50 engine is obese
Pull up by twenty
twenty four servants bathing her feet in egyptian perfume
Excuse me, can i have a moment of your time, bang your dead
I had no idea you'd be taking target
on shelves, and in memory.
3) the unwordable weirdness of coming across your own name in a search engine,
Like toe-stubbing your own tombstone at twenty-four
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