Lyrics:
roll)
This till overlooking East Beach better yet
We better wait until it's dark
Catch the motherfucker while he in bed
- (yeah, I'm feeling that)
But if
Stat Quo baby, Atlanta's own in this thang
Uh, uh
I stays by my 'fetti baby, big boy Chevy baby
Choose a pimp, hop on in
Only if you're ready baby
Ain't
I'ma see you in Hell (inhale)
Battle rap? Boy you wouldn't win a debate
The type of legacy I got
You don't get by mistake
Man don't let them amp you up
a drug and yo it's the word
How absurd deliver us from nerds
And funky 40 oz. Glass littered curbs
Soon the church pitted bell will clang
Boys
a drug and yo it's the word
How absurd deliver us from nerds
And funky 40 oz. Gla** littered curbs
Soon the church pitted bell will clang
Boys
got no shine
(Aiyo)
Had to switch focus, hustled to become Boss on Negombo Beach
But the country war torn, so oh Canada you had to reach
He gave up
Nobody on the road nobody on the beach
I feel it in the air
The summer's out of reach
Empty lake, empty streets
The sun goes down alone
I'm driving
you got
I don't really care if you fuckin that bitch
All we gotta do is just step in the spot and we thicken the plot by the flick of the switch
You
already some of the radio stations
Some of the radio stations
Already told me that they not going to play it
No. they told me in my face, that no
We not
from Far Rock hoppin'
Over the turnstile
To set up shop up top by the Jamaican spot
My joints have been a
Bop, from vinyl, cassettes, cDs and streams
side of the bush by the patio
She woke the boys up with a screech about a quarter to lunch
Sawblade running cutting up shit she stole from the beach
She
going slow
My ol' Bronco
I flipped it over up on Arnot Hill
Turned it back over and fixed the grill
You know where I been by that old oil spot
Most times
And chuck the neighbours a smile
In the street it seems a light
Just went and fell from the sky
The radio saying its
From a plane that just flew by
So i'm,
Chorus
We gonna rock this joint gonna rock this spot
Set the roof on fire if you like it or not
We gonna rock you, we gonna rock you, we gonna rock
I can put that on god
If you wanna rap then we can blow your whole spot
Say let's go, let's go man
I put that, put that, put that, put that on god
Man you hell of a pussy for
The shit you did last night
I could tell you nervous right now by
How you moving your hands right
Yeah please don't fuck
to beach
A big account
That’s what I need
With big amounts
That’s what I need
To hold the Fam down, so I can sleep with peace
Flow inspired by 50
With
Spaceship vibes, kickin shit with the aliens
Bankroll child, better known by my alias
I'm on a trip to the Vault
Bama boy grammar, she likes how I talk
Ain't
Nobody on the road
Nobody on the beach
I feel it in the air
The summer's out of reach
Empty lake, empty streets
The sun goes down alone
I'm
Nobody on the road
Nobody on the beach
I feel it in the air
The summer's out of reach
Empty lake, empty streets
The sun goes down alone
I'm
shawty
Pour up another cuz I don't feel shit
I ain't no boy, I'm the man, I don't quit
Dinner wit you, Santa Monica beach
Wondering how you fit that in yo
(ohh-oh-ohh, all the above)
Uhh, uhh (ohh-oh-ohh)
[Beanie Sigel]
Yeah, Mr. Him F'Real is here
Curbside by Atlanta, got a mill' out there
Billionaires Boys
cause I ain't coppin' out (nope)
And I f**k wit b-boys who bring them choppers out (yuppp)
One shot of that will have the boys bring the coppers out
females get jealous
Okay smartie, go to a party
Girls are scantily clad and showin' body
A chick walks by, you wish you could sex her
But you're
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