Lyrics:
standin at the cliff boy
Go and tell the captain, that I'm capturin the ship boy
They was tryna cap him, it don't matter I don't shift boy
Why ya music
the smell of success
Ain't hard to tell em who next
I'm raising hell I'm possessed
Need to excel fuck the rest
I'm living well not much stress
Cuz by myself
realize you're on the weak end to the streets
Preacher for they peeps, you asshole
You in the motion to grab toes, you're reachin' for defeat
I tell 'em I
the lobby tell them send them up
Any pussy ever disrespect me ima hem him up
Grab him by the collar my for my dollars i can hit em up
Shut em down pick em up
nigga (wha)
No Limit nigga (wha)
Flipmode nigga (wha)
No Limit nigga (wha)
Flipmode nigga
Yo yo yo (here we go)
Coincide with yo boy check out
In my mind I was next up
And I'd check em if they test us
DJ Khaled tell em bless up
Bless up
But baby I am next up
In my mind I was next up
And I'd
the dishes
But I'm different, I still put 'em on just to show 'em right
I used to be the dark child but now I glow at night
I keep a milli by my side because
ship 'em, give it to the world
Sell it to the fuckin record stores!
Tell the fuckin haters to shut up!
'Cause it still ain't no limit
I know they
the start ye
My Heart made of Gold
And my chest made of Iron
I can't take the compliments
When they tell me did well
I just look em' in the eye and tell em
Evening out the lows with the highs
Nothing I done put in more than the time
They just think it all fall from the sky
I just tell em this was all by design
yea
And don’t be fooled by the way we balling now
If he say one more thing that I don’t like we bout to stomp em out
And tell that bitch you seen me
The boy had dreams, yea
The boy had dreams, had to get it by any means
Didn't know how long my life would be, some death I seen
Never know when your
write rhymes
I tell 'em I used to
Shit now I'm writin' history you gonna remember
Like The Juice Crew
You to the G to the K-P-A Playa
Miss me bout
Flippin' that turf, have you runnin' and racin'
These junkies my patients, they walkin' and pacin' (what up? What up?)
I had to cook up, had to tell 'em
AMR Beats what we got?
All you G
Yeah, ties close, I whittled 'em down
Stick it to 'em by sticking around
The gang all on Iwo Jima
Got one
the same, 'cause cock backwards is still cock you pricks
I love it when I tell 'em shove it
Cause it wasn't that long ago when Marshall sat, luster lacked,
the street and
Go loot with the masses
Tell me how boy went from
Coupe to a casket
Tryna rob me like baskin
Chopper sing it's everlasting
Then make a play with
the deputy, and head of bank treasury
So mounties in the county got a BIG bounty stressin' me
But tell 'em to hold off, they too short to measure me
Mos
but we faster (Faster)
Boys no fit die, cucaracha (Racha)
Vibe no dey die, cucaracha (Racha)
Still the Kojey that you know but the pros love 'em
Pick
gangsta, you can tell by the swag
And it's fresh off the lot, you can tell by the tag, what's up?
It's about 3 in the morning
Gotta leave with somethin' hot
going through it yea
And I can tell you bout a real nigga going through it
Put his hands up
We got em going out the sad way
Bake that boy a cake
And I
boy cause he be down but he say cheese
Roll up that za I smoke exotic by the pea
No one can ever help you out when you tell 'em that you in need
tellin'
In his mind he indicted a felon
Every day is like hide and seek
If I lock down two in the mornin'
Tell me by night why I see three
Dottin',
yeah)
Remix
Now this that sh-, right here
Bad Boy, baby (uh, yeah)
Janet (uh, yeah)
JJ (uh, yeah)
This goes out to all the clubs (the one and only)
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