Lyrics:
Linger Ficken' Good
Bill-Bill Reiflin
Linger Ficken' Good
Paul-Paul Barker
Linger Ficken' Good
Al-Hypo Luxa
Linger Ficken' Good
Chris-Chris
JIM LANGE
WINK MARTINDALE
JAYE P. MORGAN
CHUCK BARRIS
NIPSY RUSSELL
JIM LADD
RIP TAYLOR
JO ANN PFLUG
PAUL LYNDE
BOB BARKER
WALLY COX
ORSON BEAN
SCOEY
Nora Jackson, Harold Worth
Robert Tomkins, Vera Tomkins, Henrietta Barker, James Isbister
We pray, we cry
We say goodbye
We hurt, we ache
This pain,
I could never camouflage ('flage)
Doggy do it extra large (large), coppin to a lesser charge (charge)
Paul Wall your next in charge, S is hard,
to a lesser charge
Paul wall your next in charge s is hard rappin hard
Dressin hard techin hard blastem like ?
I'm a bad mother I'm the only rapper know by
lookin at the raw invented
On Friday, I spit 35 to 40 minutes
Smell up, the bathroom like Craig Paul was in it
Endin up, on your back, Wu swords up in it
Parker
Štrcam paučinu na Doru Barker
Ukrcam kaučinu u bili kombi
Dvi tisuće i osme svi smo pili zombie
But now we're feeling lonely and she feeling choosey
Billy again with Travis Barker, Jay and Silent Bob
Hiya mom, Holmes got another chopper, high as a helicopter
Sitting on the porch with a simple torch
Chop it up
Chop it up
Chop it up
DJ Paul, KOM
In the kisser, in his face
She so open, we so open
She so open, we so open
She so open, soon
that, I'm the best alive
I'm Paul Walker in the Mach 5
Like Bob Barker, "Come on down!"
L-O-Y-A-L-T-Y
I'mma hold you down 'till the day we day
When
the Pocket counters chasing clouters Big mouthers Slick talkers Poor walkers Furious as hell call me Paul walker This gun ain’t for FX So Don’t call me
that tv 'on that NBC
I got homies I be around and they envy me
Peanut butter on the seats 'I'm driving real fast I feel like Paul walker
Got them drum
be doing donuts on a go kart
Pull up in a skyline like I'm Paul Walker
Make a million unsigned like sauce walka
If the price is right like Bob Barker
a-find a side county, choose to life out it
Niggas still a-bring that Bob Barker at the price rack
I know some youngins that first hustle was cha-cha
the bathroom like Craig Paul was in it
Endin up, on your back, Wu swords up in it
Anyone can match me I crack 'em all to Guinness
Fuck how many thugs, players,
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