Lyrics:
trying to play me like a video
Now he be calling my phone
I never call back
Wasn't trying to help me spring forward
I had to fall back
Out of town throw
on the stage with the chucks on
Māori boy with the pen I'm Picasso
Tā moko on the skin like a barcode
Complemented by the lineage indigeneous
Ruaumoko I'ma burn
doctor
And if me and Ren's on the mike it's like propaganda, no doubt
"Boy you should've known by now" ..
Compton's in the house
Yeah, it's time to put
Atlanta wit' the cartel microwave, boy
Breadwinner Gang, we is mafia material
What up with Big Tony, mafia material
Hand signal
Shoutin' out the plug in
shit
You can just keep makin' them tired old threads
A little bit like the boy you cried wolf, yeah
See me, but don't dare to try no shit
'Cause you
don't fall in love with a boy like that oh
The kind of boy who never calls you back
And he never has the time to ever work it out oh yea
Don't fall in
head to Delilah with all of my ice
Head to Delilah with all of my ice, head to Delilah with all of my ice
This shit gotta be over by now for anyone out
fake
It's, comin' out ya kitchen sink
Your Mic's a baby bottle, son
Some say they ain't, but I am the one
The slice is that the fire, boy, it'll
was bought by my mum not Herman.
Anyway, Glaucia wanted a way to get back at me and these prison boys seemed like the perfect way so she inserted her
I'm going out to get fucked up
Pretty boy, blood star
Blue blood, black body bag
I'm a skinzoid anemic
A murdered timeline
Lay it down into the soil
nigga I ain't never really been out flowed by no boy
Your food look just right
I'ma eat your porridge
Even though I'm full as a motherfucker like no
wrong with that guy
I was addicted, a video burn-out and I would crazy when the guy would have to turn out
The lights at midnight, I'd fall on my knees
Cause you kill niggas
Nuts for that ice and that
Cream banana peel niggas
Banana clips spill, niggas wanna bang out
For they approval boy
You can't even
on the radio dissin' me?
B-I double G-Ito the E shit's scorchin'
Doing a video for a song
I got blew out of proportion
I found he's the deadliest force
In
directly out the fetus
Evolution for the young killer convenience
Radio check check
Video check check
This is how the city-folk and mole-people connect-nect
and a pitch in the tent
It's just a video camera no need to get upset
Hey bitch do you like sex?
Well me too
I'mma pull my dick out and this is what we
Come out and play
You know we had to do a remix, right?
(Rippa on the beat, bitch)
You know what it is (you know what it is)
When you hear that
fall like the bridge over London
When it kick you like Van Damme
Diss me out a East and me buck you over Boston
Head a buss like gas pan
Bullet with
hired's out
Stuck inside a cycle, on a wider route
Not a straight and narrow. You a choir mouse
So what the fuck is you cryin' bout
Is taking Fed chances by
for her baby
Boy to come back home
Cus' he out pushin' that chrome
Pursuing that cash
End another niggas dreams when
The fo-fifth blast
Now another
fascinated by the game
I bugged out
They raised twenty-five cent prices
For my video games
Mortal Kombat time for no contract
Back to the Future no one told
Monte had to sit down so fuck the feds still
Got out Manson and Vic de Ville
We from the gutter, nigga, all day
So now it's ghetto ponytails, nigga,
my Magnum Force
'cause when I lay a nigga out, they come and drag em off
(Y'all niggas crazy) Yo them boys ain't got no remorse
I take a hit of my Bob
you're gettin' fucked out your green by a white boy
With no Vaseline
("Now you're gettin' done without Vaseline")
("Now you're gettin' done without
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