Lyrics:
you're gangsta
Pack ya guns in the club
If they shrug and them thugs mean mug ya
Come gangsta
Is what they sayin' to me
[Verse 2: Tech N9ne]
I shoulda
The spiked red hair...and the..and the, paintn' his face
Wha, hold on man, Tech is losein' it man
He's not as grounded as he used to be
Tech was
like The Breakfast Club, there Tech gets love
Murs, Stevie, Mayday, JL, even CES get plugged
I fuck with Double XL Vanessa is thug
They know when I
it all
I want it, I want it, want it
My name in lights in Carnegie Hall
I want it all
Can't you see it (yeah)
They're gonna love me
Hmm mmm
it all
I want it, I want it, want it
My name in lights in Carnegie Hall
I want it all
Can't you see it (yeah)
They're gonna love me
Hmm mmm
the best reviews
(Say it!)
I want it all! I want it I want it want it
My name in lights in Carnegie hall
I want it all!
Can't you see it?
Yeah
Porto l'high tech
Ora porto l'high tech
Non ti frega di me
Non lo farò per cash
Ora porto l'high tech
Stavo pensando di comprare casa
Ma ancora non me lo
high tech, gettin' head in the center lane
See we got the world respectin' the slang
The good life, hit the studio, the club, straight to the plane
and now I'm ridin on the radio
Your ass ain't no DJ, my advise stop playin me fore
[Verse 2: Smoke]
I'm ridin in my drop cut, these 24 inch not scrubbin
In
two minutes
This to them fools thinkin' they gon' catch the God slippin'
I'm always on point and I'm always packin' my weapon
You see me in the club
[Timbaland]
Beat club!
Untitled, uhh uhh, uhh - YES
Uhh uhh, uhh, YES, uhh uhh
Uhh uhh Timbaland, uhh, uhh uhh
Uhh, uhh uhh - YES, uhh
One,
Beat club
Untitled, uhh uhh, uhh, yes
Uhh uhh, uhh, yes, uhh uhh
Uhh uhh Timbaland, uhh, uhh uhh
Uhh, uhh uhh, yes, uhh
One, two, three, here we go
Another season of
A dreamer dreaming of
A group of feening clubs
I bring heat like demon gloves
From jump the reason was
To be receiving love
See
for lunch
Let's jump in my bathtub, bubble suds
I can see with my third eye, birds eye view
I got to sur-vive, so chew
We roll with the tech nine,
for the low though
Shawty, light up the dro; I ain't ready to go
Can't ban me from the radio or fuck up my show, you know
Haters tryin' to ban a nigga
Because my sole purpose
Expose all of you servants, but I know what it's like to be backstage nervous
At the radio station first time and you presence feels
Nine millimeters and Techs and them AK47's
Illegal weapons you talking bout you snucked in the club
You got so many guns
Tell me why you rappers steady
I don't understand people who are satisfied with ordinary pop music
They just listen to whatever radio stations decide they should like
cnd my God
please wash these lames away
And ironically, that's the name of my song
That's gold with no fuckin' radio play
Now it's back to the topic
Let me hit you
for lunch
Let's jump in my bathtub, bubble suds
I can see with my third eye, birds eye view
I got to sur-vive, so chew
We roll with the tech nine,
Cape Town radio 021
KashCPT (Baker got the keys boy)
I used to stuff all the G's in my denim
Momma I pray I ain't going to jail
I'm riding in
for the low though
Shawty, light up the dro; I ain't ready to go
Can't ban me from the radio or fuck up my show, you know
Haters tryin' to ban a nigga
for the low though
Shawty, light up the dro; I ain't ready to go
Can't ban me from the radio or fuck up my show, you know
Haters tryin' to ban a nigga
and now I'm ridin on the radio
Your ass ain't no DJ, my advise stop playin me fore
[Verse 2: Smoke]
I'm ridin in my drop cut, these 24 inch not scrubbin
In
.jpg/300px-Carnegie_Hall_-_Full_(48155558466).jpg "Benny Goodman Carnegie Hall Orchestra")
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