Lyrics:
wait for you to get it
It means so fucking much having your support
For the last four months
You're lowkey a legend
We love your videos
Don't forget us
in every environment possible
Often I will play these last mentioned while writing
Tracks labeled French Bakery Lunchtime Near Register, Barbershop
another word-smith to make my tune sell
Call yourself a singer-writer, you're just bluffing
Name's on the credits and you didn't write nothing
I sing
made me jaded, I could be like Will Smith
Family that barely talk to me now, askin' me what I deal with
Don't ask me to hang, you'll kick the chair,
talking Will Smith when he told his little cousin
Act mad stupid and these bully’s don’t want nothing
See I’m just me nothing more nothing lesser
Catch you
why don't you come to the crib-o?
We could wine and dine and relax on the low
And drink Mo, by the way, I just saw your video)
Yeah, true, I'm comin'
American boys
Named Perry and Dick
Who will spin the thread of life
And who will determine the span
And who will cut the thread?
Knife in hand
Perry Smith
records than Will Smith
Can't call this a comeback, I run rap, the fuck is y'all sayin?
Five million I done that, and I come back, to do it again (uh-huh)
across, cracks is fallin'
My pockets is lean, clean when I vanished off
Took off, made track look easy
The walkie talkies them D-E-T's had, black, they
the East coast fuck took it from me
Fourth album still Jay still spittin that real shit
Volume 3 still sold more records than Will Smith
Can't call this
records than Will Smith
Can't call this a comeback, I run rap, the fuck is y'all sayin?
Five million I done that, and I come back, to do it again (uh-huh)
Ten million dollars later I'm a blessing, nigga
How a nigga rich but still stressing, nigga
Glock-40, Smith & Wesson, nigga
Streets will never ever
winning like I'm Tom Brady
Talking down on my name but it really don't phase me
On the way to the top I'm first placing
On the right track going fast like
Big man big track big time big vibes big work on a big bad album
These bombs be dropping be dropping on your head
Like a burton foot and a old school
the place to be
G4, the M-I, get high
Float in the friendly sky
I’m that fly, tell my pilot the fourth
Far as raps, I murder tracks, Philly
I kill the shit
SMITH, na ni pure nisha i saniff
Kitu sure Ka L.O.X mistari ni hard core
BMX Stunting kwa M.I.C
Mokofi kwa DM
X smiling toka binguni
Truly Unothordox ki
need you at all
You need me
I sing and write my own tune
And I write my own verso
Don't need another word-smith to make my tune sell
Call yourself
the videos and get the girls in the back
But if that's what I believe in, and the reason that I rap
Uncle Sam is my pimp when he puts me on the track
Make
both Maguire and Smith as centre halves. Arnold and Smith will give England the ability to push forward as the full backs.
Into the midfield: Maddison
Classic, uh, uh, uh
I'd like to welcome y'all to Exit 13
My name is LL Cool J
AKA the GOAT
R. Leslie on the track, uh, uh, uh
I told y'all
That was Everything Is A Lot by
Will Wood and the Tapeworms
Presented by SAY-10 Records
Copyright: Will Wood 2015
Produced, recorded, mixed
than your video
Fuck a sadiddy ho
This that rap city flow, hit Flex
Let the city know, shit
By time you hear this
A nigga will be up on Arsenio
And I got
for forgivness took a brief intermission, so practice my tradition in the kitchen so i'm back in my position, black smith-en aiming at the opposition
on Death Row, so duck when I swing my shit
I get rugged like Rawhead Rex with fat tracks that fits
The gangsta type, what I recite's kinda lethal
Niggas
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