Lyrics:
the girls like whoa (Whoa)
I love the way you drive fast when you're off-road (Road)
And do it so professional
We like them cowboys who can put on a show
to sellin raps, name your theme
My rise to the top, floatin on this cream
Who the hell want to stop me, I hated those who doubt me
A million ReFugees with
person who hires me
Saying yes to every question is always the key
Become a corporate shell ran by the machine
Not see any of my visions on the screen
Then
been trying
To see some sun shine
Through on the things we do
And who's to say
Today we may see a way through
The troubles and strife
And even though
hopes and dreams, we got, ways and means
The supreme dream team, always up with the schemes
From hubcaps to sellin' raps, name your theme
My rise
to selling raps, name your theme
My rise to the top floating on this cream
Who the hell wanna stop me, I hated those who doubt me
A million ReFugees with
Being gentrified
By the guys who's nine to five
Provides enough for sustainable life
If you feel like you're being threatened
Because our skin isn't your
trying to heal
I had been married at seventeen
By the man of my dreams
Who very soon became my living nightmare
He said he loved me
But he was controlling
facts
But you know we don't want fags
I don't even know what I'm gonna say next
All I know is I'm getting distracted by a sext
I need to clear my mind,
the club and does our thing
My goonies by the bar
We ghetto superstars
They know just who we are
We pistol poppers chopper choppers
Blame it
on, and the most hated
Hated by niggas with no hustle
Starin' at me in the club like I won't bust you
In the face with the spades, life is a card
something that you'd tell your former self?
There were those that wished they'd spun upon a jukebox
There were pirates who had never seen the sea
But
So watch out hard
Who holds the keys to the car
It doesn't matter who or where you are
Believe me you'll get caught
By these haters
These fakers
Top: 11
Theme: Rod Stewart Songs
Original: Cat Stevens
--
I would have given you all of my heart
But who's someone who's torn it apart
And he's
nuts, then I (yeah)
Check my ball hair (what?), make sure it's all there (yeah)
Then call the pallbearer (yeah)
It's Music to Be Murdered By again, why
sing, for I cannot be silent!
His love is the theme of my song
I know I shall see in His beauty
The King in whose law I delight
Who lovingly guards
movement
Understandable smooth shit that murderers move with
The thief's theme: play me at night, they won't act right
The fiend of hip-hop has got me
Intro: Orlando
Thank you for visiting Orlando, Florida
Home of the theme parks, Arlington, and beautiful sunshine
Orlando
Please gather your
do that again
And by that I mean end
A sentence with a preposition
I got props for the real hip-hop
Those who pop and lock to
The beat of a boombox
To be on a different side
Can see who's real who's fake
No catch
But the real ones really
Ain't got nothing to hide
Inspired by so many souls
Don't know
Back on the scene, movin' so mean
Sam Egypt, I'm a rap machine
Step to me, you'll see who's the king
Imma demolish egos, make 'em change their theme
on the side of his
And what a surprise
Look, it's come to violence
It just took some propaganda right on top of christian themes
All the people who fought
those who be creepin' blow 'em off they tippy toes
Sorry, fake nigga that's how it goes
Sport the suede-front bullet proof vests in case
You
Artist: DJ Envy f/ Jay-Z
Album: Blok Party Vol. 1
Song: H.O.V.A.
Typed by: OHHLA Webmaster DJ Flash
[Jay-Z] + (DJ Envy)
Yo uh, dim
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