Lyrics:
the brothers representin' the Dirty Dozen
I be the F-R-O the double G
And check out the man, he goes by the name of er
Slim Shady, brain dead like Jim Brady
the brothers representin' the Dirty Dozen
I be the F-R-O the double G
And check out the man, he goes by the name of er
Slim Shady, brain dead like Jim Brady
the brothers representin' the Dirty Dozen
I be the F-R-O the double G
And check out the man, he goes by the name of er
Slim Shady, brain dead like Jim Brady
more whores on the dick
This ones for Clue and my Riker's Island niggas
That remember when I came through
The big O B C C H D M 2 C 74
Little Nasi
cares
I'm stanky rich
I'ma die trying to spend this shit
Southside's up in in this bitch
Yeah i smell like the vault
I used to sell dope
I did play
umbilical cord
Warlord of rap that'll bash you with
A 2 by 4 board
And smash into your Honda Accord
With a 4 door Ford
But I'm more toward droppin'
This song is by Mississippi Fred McDowell and
appears on the album Mississippi Fred McDowell (1995).
John Henry was a steel-drivin'
John Henry was
niggas, Dru Hill to drew down
And I'm prayin' they set
Instead, most artists don't live as good as the execs
And they end up depressed
Scarred by A&Rs,
billions, what the fuck?
Have a baby by me baby, be a millionaire
I write the check before the baby comes, who the fuck cares?
I'm stanky rich, I'mma die
(D-D-D-DJ FMCT)
I'm like two for three tonight
(DJ Bandz, aw, man)
I'm different
Me, I'ma grow up a dog
Go through Securus, I slow up the call
next to her are two spinsters knitting their way in and out
Arious predicaments coloure
D by the excesses of their ancestors.
and close by them, some
I'm a rich nigga like I don't know
I can change if I wanna, but I won't though
Do it right even when I'm on the wrong road
Real talk from the heart
by the grateful people I have saved
You see, everybody loves me, baby, what's the matter with you?
Won'tcha tell me what did I do to offend you?
reality flow
I'm tryna time my album dropping
With a reality show
Cock the MAC-11 in front of Hot 97
And call my publicist
Tell her we in press heaven (Ha
have time to ask
'cause I'm bout it bout it like the tru
One love to real hustlers, straight dollars for two
[hook:]
Gangstas, ballers, and hustlers too
head, two steps a my competitor
Catch em slippin cuz they just been bought
Got directions to the house and
The keys to the vault
Well let me open up this
billions, what the fuck?
Have a baby by me baby, be a millionaire
I write the check before the baby comes, who the fuck cares?
I'm stanky rich, I'mma die
takin' subliminal
Cause they can't get what I got's
They want it so bad, four million dollar pad
And enough to retire off two albums, gone, wave ya' white
a dope picture
I'm always working, harshtag's got no leisure
But golden said something about flow put 2 and 2 together
So you know say i gats feature
They
tryin', tryin', tryin')
(To get you under my pressure)
Yes, uh
Biggest, you feel me? (M-M-M-Maybach Music)
Godfather with a garden full of snakes
body Benz, you riding big body fo' do'
Fa sho though you know, how that Texas talk
I'm trying to stack my green, I mean fill up my vault
[Chorus:
the baritone and I'm home alone dig it
and I'm always staying freshly dipped on 1-2-5th
where the dogs bark and the dreadlock be sparkin spliff
Okay okay
no joke, when your ones don't show
Nigga I know, might say 'Been There Done That' like Dre
Through hard work I earn the vault
Promise God to never
rapper about to blow
But his album came, and it was not good
I think it went lead or double copper-wood
So the silly little fans, they were misled
By
.png/300px-Grateful_Dead_(1970).png "Grateful Dead")
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