Lyrics:
lungs up with smoke
To get things off my chest
Now, I'm crossing the border
Wasted again
With a number
From a Canadian ten
Oh Mother, oh Mother
Why must
friend
Do you have WINDOWS frontend!
I say, brothers I am your friend
I work for WINDOWS backend!
What is your registration number...
What is your
is my late registration
Yeah yeah
This is my late registration
One time for my late registration
Yeah this is my late registration
I'm up I'm late I
loot
Mr. Canadian, di top gunner
Ask di gyal dem out a road who a di number one stunner (yo)
We dem ones, dat dem boy dem nuh fi joke wid
We dem
Rivas Soriano, de Pablo, Garcia Diez. Prediction of the daily number of forest fires // International Journal of Wildland Fire. 2000. Volume 9.
3. Viegas,
you I don't need you!
The world don't need you
Don't let them deceive you
Numbers lie too, fuck your pride too
That's for dedication
Thought money would
voter registration
Dr Sebi trynna show us what the way is
Y'all see how they do greatness
Y'all see how they do greatness
Me and the homie back on
This
I'm not late again
Money my love so you know I can't date again
Wishing that I could go tell her I'm sorry
But I remember that I'm not Canadian
I'm
Put it in Drive
License registration ya number
Drive it, Put it in Drive
Far from basic, they just fall under
Drive it, Put it in Drive
Ain't no
kind before
Where you get that kind of dough
How you shot and still resisting we gon split yo cantaloupe
Public enemy number 1
Why I get arrested as soon
jerk
They asked me to write you a number
To show you just how we all feel
We know you're a fan of the
Land we call Canada
So here's what I've got
shawty her number, fasho
Yeah I get it, then I bone, then I hit it like bone bone
Now you fucking up my zone, my zone, my zone
Said she wait when daddy
shawty her number, fasho
Yeah I get it, then I bone, then I hit it like bone bone
Now you fucking up my zone, my zone, my zone
Said she wait when daddy
window
Slipped his gun down under his seat
The glove-box was full of cocaine
The trunk was full of weed
"Driver's license and registration,"
Said
shawty her number, fasho
Yeah I get it, then I bone, then I hit it like bone bone
Now you fucking up my zone, my zone, my zone
Said she wait when daddy
window.
Slipped his gun down under his seat.
The glove-box was full of cocaine
The trunk was full of weed.
"Driver's license and registration,"
Said
focused on money, keep them numbers doubling
If it ain't about amounts then it ain't about nothing
Still on my hustle, bitches still love him
Big block
I move, just do what I say*
We Passing Canadian gas,
Light up burning Canadian grass
Twist up greens, we selling a ton
Breaking up hunnids, I needed
automatic kicking like soccer
Bottles popping it's popping, twenty bitches around us
I just slide her the numbers, so if she hit me I count her
I canary
cuff me, I'm sippin 2-11
Bout to plan a 211, murder your partner and put you in heaven
Lucky number 667, I mean 666
I got six clips to the fuckin'
foreign, yeah
They was comment, laughin'
Now we number one in Paris, yeah
Wake up every mornin' and I can touch the sky
I know they gon' hate, but they
shawty her number, fasho
Yeah I get it, then I bone, then I hit it like bone bone
Now you fucking up my zone, my zone, my zone
Said she wait when daddy
A tumor on our ass (We want answers)
For bad manners (And the use of police scanners)
So we jottin down their numbers (In our pocket planners)
For
I'm talking black Balenciagas bitch i'm in Ksubis you in pyjamas
They wanna come at my name ill allow it
Proof in the pudding they numbers so count
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