Lyrics:
on TV"
One night, Meek and I meet up at a
Seafood restaurant not far from his hotel
Where we are joined at the
Last minute by Rick Ross
His longtime
ile mi
Ile ni ile mi
The grave is my bed
Ile ni ile mi
Ni ile mi
Ni ile mi
The grave is bed
Ile ni ile mi
I’m Mr. President
Aso Rock is my residence
I
find
Over 50 restaurants owned
By 50 black women i didn't say minority
And I didn't say women of color
So after you burn down your
Own home what do you
Here it is
Where's it at?
In the back
Got a stack
The Dirty Bastard
Yo you Bastard flip the phat track
Here I go, here I go, whether friend
wall and shut your grill
I'ma paralyze your heart and shove your ass under the hill
President Bill...Clinton got his dick sucked by that horny white
wrap
Side of anti feminism don't forget that
Keep the women in the kitchen where they belong
Refuse to ever admit you're wrong
Oh Rishi Sunak where do
gusta mami
I love it when you call me "Big Poppa"
(yeah, Poppa) lookin' from the North
We don't need no binoculars (Where?)
Do everything in the world
to forget
By the sea, Mr. Todd
We'll be comfy-cozy
By the sea, Mr. Todd
Where there's no one nosy
And life is for the alive, my dear
So let's keep
inspire to be
Feds on my back from my ties to criminology
Can't look back now, tomorrow's never promised B
Where I'm from, for (president) we voted Eric
That's when shit change obama's president
The Steelers won the 6th ring
So I ain’t through trying
I feel like I can do anything
Started small town now we
But God in all his wisdom
Busted through a maiden head
The apostles visit now and then
But I can't get their hands uncurled
By the spikes hammered
Probably cause I live by the art of for-keeps
I get indicted after my product's released
We a different form, a different centrifugal force
Every line is
mine don't belong to the government
This is my body
It's mine to decide what the fuck I can do with it
This is my body
My right to decide is my right
nigga by the dreadlocks
kick in the door break the chains and the dead lock
Jae Millz.
ay yo i been hittin his phone and still cant get 'em
i know he
talk was psychic thoughts
Flashbacks, all the past blacks trapped in the present
Killin for dead presidents, where every ghetto residence
is
okhobhelogbe on the way coming from my working place I saw two police men hissing by road they where asking me for my identity now I was on the way coming from
been hard to find
So love, you must believe me
Ain't gonna let it slip away
I know I was wrong
I want you back where you belong
Want you back where
there to see you"
No, tell her to call me back
I'm busy with the President of the United States
Discussing more rates on a higher level
Don't give
frigid
The President's painted green
Jesus Christ has been frozen in ice
But he still makes the scene
Everybody wants to know what gives
But I know where
The cage in which my heart's been placed
I see, was made by me
Whoa
All my life
I've been dreamin' on
So where do I belong
Where do I belong
All alone
I
"Frank E baby (Baby) " "Hey"
"Where the booty at"
Mr 305 (yeah)
Omar Cruz (This is for the ladies)
I'll be in the club with
Some bad ones with me
you
Man's been shotting 4s from back in
The day like President T
Frisco's back in your face
Sit down get back in your place
I'm back in the race shut ya
yeah)
With the tourists who be asking him (yeah, yeah, uh)
"Do you work here?" (Yeah)
Mr. Nigga, Nigga-Nigga
Nigga-nigga
Yo, the Abstract with
Momma gave me the swag
I walk like the President
Talk 'bout only dead presidents
And big settlements
Yes, I have faith in the flag, yep
I'm a citizen
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