Lyrics:
None of these guys (nothing on mine)
None of these, none of these, none of these, none of these-
None of these guys got nothing on mine
They're
You can trace the mystery of ancient history
Through art of artists and their models
You can comb through the Rome coliseum
And the rear
Why are these tears in my eyes
When I know a man
A man ain't supposed to cry?
(yeah, yeah, yeah) Oh
(A man ain't supposed to cry) i know a man
(A
Trapped in time and I don't know what to do
These friends of mine, I can see right through
You don't gotta tell me I don't gotta move
'Cause I'm
I got a guy to sight in my rifle
My mama's new boyfriend re-binds Bibles
Ricky down the road, he resoles Red Wings
Hell, I got a guy for every
look like I'm doin' alright
But you should see the other guy
As far as anyone can see
Things are lookin' up these days
Only let 'em see this side
But these three cubic feet of bone and blood and meat are what I love and know
I'm a one man guy in the morning
I'm the same in the afternoon
One
wanna be the girl under you (oh yeah)
I wanna be your G.U.Y., oh yeah
I wanna be the grave and earth you (oh yeah)
Our sex doesn't tell us no lies
my pocket
How I'm buryin' these artists
On a scale of turnt you're minus
Mine says very, yours says hardly
And what's scary is you probably can
and get dressed 'cause I'm fly?
Why not get all of these chips? I'm that guy
Why not? Not why? (Why?)
Why not? Not why? (Why?)
Why not go hard every
on both my knees for you
Don't say thank you or please
I do what I want when I'm wanting to
My soul? So cynical
So you're a tough guy
Like it really
call it "yin yanging"
Um
It's not a, it's not racist
Guys, it's 21st century racism
It's racism in light of itself
The only reason I'm saying these
hate the thought of going ashore,)
(And leave these guys here sitting in their undershirts)
(We gotta meet all those beautiful dames in their soft silk
Check this out,check this out,
RAP
This guy's a choke artist
Ya catch a bad one
Your better off shootin yourself
With Papa Doc's handgun
Climbin up
to do
It i am an artist and I care about humanity
Yes I am personally rich and I can
Buy furs and houses for my family
But I need access to more money
Divide ending with guys collide, brute agenda
I fight all you clowns
Goodnight strike then you all fall down
P!
Real artists
Fake artists
Hot
Nothing you could say could tear me away from my guy
(My guy)
Nothing you could do 'cause I'm stuck like glue to my guy
(My guy)
I'm sticking
in the end
Happy, free, confused
Lonely, devastated, euphoric, wild
And tortured by memories past
These are the original thirty songs that were
Bounce my nigga you don't want no beef
With these Chi-town niggas
You ain't got the phlegm
For the four-pound spitters
Underground underneath
rap, and of course I am back
Because these other MC's out here are so weak and wack
So BDP will teach them, hey, we will teach them
BDP will teach
Preacher man, policeman, working together
both can fight, black and white, and they're tough guys
They're your friends through thick and thin cause
Preacher man, policeman, working together
both can fight, black and white, and they're tough guys
They're your friends through thick and thin cause
of the hustlers, uh
The world is my custy
New Rich Porter
The way I flip quarters
Front on all these other rap artists, but me
Mama was a mink wearer
Papa ran
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