Lyrics:
Cray
Hound Dog Taylor
Stevie Ray
Etta James
Freddie King
James Cotton
Koko Taylor
Albert Collins
Johnny Winter
Leadbelly
Pinetop Perkins
Big Joe Turner
destino es errante
Veo luces amarillas
Creo que puedan ser mi salvación
suena un piano cartero
mi armónica es negras tipo James Cotton en Sugar Blue
Que
Hours before the dawn, James opened up his eyes
Cotton bursting from the soil from the moment he would rise
cpple trees dropped their fruit and bowed
cotton pickin
Like James Brown I'm sayin it loud
Am I loud enough? Huh, you got ta give it up
[Some ain't gonna change, some ain't gonna change
givin' but never cotton pickin'
Like James Brown I'm sayin' it loud
Am I loud enough? Huh, you got ta give it up
(Some ain't gonna change, some ain't
don't want war with the Badman (Badman)
Stepped through nigga be fitted like James Bond
Enemies butter soft like cotton and creamed corn
Hennessey
Run up racks i just touched 13
She just gave me cat in a SRT
Aye!
Big rings on like Lebron James
Took troll on a chase down broadway
I been chasing
Ladies
Ladies &
&
Gentlemen
Ronald James
James
James
James
James
James
I Guess I'm supposed to rap
James
Ronald James
This is fricken crazy
Yeah
and get high
I'm on my hood James Bond shit
With my cool James Bond chick
Rev the V12
When we see 12
And burn down the highway to hell
Still on that hood
and get high
I'm on my hood James Bond shit
With my cool James Bond chick
Rev the V12
When we see 12
And burn down the highway to hell
Still on that hood
(dissin')
Sneak me through the back window, I'm a good field nigga
I made a flower for you outta cotton just to chill with you
You know I'd go
tenders to your cotton money
I am Hip Hop
(It's heavy metal for the black people)
I am Rock and Roll (Rock and Roll, rock 'n' roll)
Been here forever
Cotton Candy Smoke
Niggas choke
Yea I come for throats
Aint no comfort inn
Wit my pen
Im like Roanoke
Like the Hi-C
Eyes, super high, beamed
Yes
that isn't ours
And wearin' cotton we didn't grow
He's got the red, white,
And blue flyin' high on the farm
Semper fi tattooed on his left arm
Spends
Green minded like a slave field, niggas picking green like it's cotton
Money getting' burnt, money fire
Franck Muller at the new spot
Frank mattress
hit the brakes
The bitches came out, so we the niggas they would chase
Envy was the norm, we the children in the corn
Black male, pickin' cotton
the west was won
Our motto, a true desperado
Rappers want to be actors
So they play the Jesse James character
And get they bones fractured
You ain't
motto, a true desperado
Rappers want to be actors
So they play the Jesse James character
And get they bones fractured
You ain't got no guns, you off
that ass
Stay on my triple shit nigga, I'm so high
I'm so fly, check my ride
Shit's so clean, chick thought I was a spy
007, I'm James Bond
And I'm
Everybody wants to go to Heaven
Y'all thought I was soft as cotton
Everybody wants to go to Heaven
Messed around and forgot I was rotten
whiter than Anglo-Saxons
Make it a 1X Tall
Crispy with the cotton fashion
That's fashion if you come where I'm from
Compton California
One love
Witchdoctors, good ol' pickpockets
Sip moonshine, so-called coons, shines, and darkies
I love y'all, pyramids to cotton fields
To Wrigley Fields, forgotten men
yellow, and green to keep white folks from running into each other
By the way how you gon' invent a cotton gin when you ain't picked no cotton?
If necessity
wow ow
I'm mixed with James Brown and Master P, ugh, ow
Mystikal and Busta Rhymes (woo hah, whoa shit)
Mixed with the Shocker and The Guillotine
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