Lyrics:
Parody of Sold: The Grundy County Auction by John Michael Montgomery (R. Fagan/R.Royer), Of Music (ASCAP)/RobbRoy West Music (BMI)
New Lyrics
(we did)
Ready to go off any minute so you feel it (bah, bah)
Because of the law, I had to conceal it (I go by Weezy Baby)
And if you mess around,
That boy built like a john no wick
Spaz on his ass with the retts no tick
Mag to the back clip a tag on him fast
If I'm pissed then rest in piss yo
Of Pennsylvania Avenue
George Washington was the first, you see
He once chopped down a cherry tree
D:President number two would be
John Adams and then
space
Resort to the lips of a stripper, sprayin' their face
Lampin' in a mansion, home alone
I hear footsteps, shit I kicks just not lyrics
I hold
“Unidentifiable Chatter”
Yall too slow like Molassess
Seein’ through you niggas don’t need glasses
I can’t see you niggas Boi you John Cenas
I can’t
parading little paedos feelies!
Chopper cheddar Hoff der wiener
Schnitzel bacon Hoff der clit
Just a tad up off her round tops
Inject the fat around her lips
and chips
three cups of tea, a man to smack me lips
I said to John me husband, "Ain't I gettin fat?"
He said, "Not really, love, I like ya like like that"
But
so they wanna ride this wave
Pull up on me if u wanna die today right away
Gettin high I'm a fly away
By the way I annihilate
All these beats straight
pain
I can get you John Doe by a no name
Catch him at the Chinese store
Pulled two sticks on him, we eatin' Lo Mein
Nah nigga, Smack can't hear
(hair)
(uh)
Playboy don' do tings er way (whoo)
Ims Raps Lebron Teflon John (uh)
Bergets Unarmed (uh) the next Sean....John (g'ea)
By any means I protect my
Lord
Lord Jesus
You there
DEVOUR
Pop it like it's magic
Oh it's so tragic
Had it but I let it slip, through my fat lips
Finalize, Generate, Cash
nine years
[Jamie Maddrox:]
I don't know you fat bitch!
[Some bitch:]
It's me, Jenny
I sat behind you in Mrs. Coberry's chemistry class
nine years
[Jamie Maddrox:]
I don't know you fat bitch!
[Some bitch:]
It's me, Jenny
I sat behind you in Mrs. Coberry's chemistry class
(Great John on the beat, by the way)
Hol' on, huh, look, huh
She like, look, huh
"Lemme see your chain, lemme kiss ya neck," hol' on
"Baby
the clique, I said
Not By The Hair On My Dummy Fat Dick
And if that tummy have a kick, imma abort that shit
Support no kid, .44 to your forehead if
You talking
chick on the spot
'Till I noticed that her breath
Smell like fat kids in a box
I met this girl named Jill
Who wanted my baby
I always told her no
to see me
Like John Cena
High jab ya, huh, then wrap you like a turban
Pack a Stan in a can and ship him to Eminem
And say "Dax needs a feature" and
Pray
glasses no longer are we sober
October, my birthday when's yours?
She said it was in May and by the way I'm a Taurus
Pour us two more glass of Aleza,
immaculate blast and you gone
My craft is beyond mastered
It's blasphemy having me on a song
For less than three 16's like
A chapter from John
Rappers get laid
a crowd sounds weird to
Cauliflowered ears bashed in, blackened eyes
And fat lips, intrapersonal clashes
Under a mask living virtually unknown
Even
and showed love
What do you want bitch
I always been about money
Yea I'm going dum bitch
I'm a made man John Gotti like a Teflon
I had a fat bitch with good
shotty blow
Fine pot of gold
Found by the stove
Red yellow go
Dread let em know
Bread feta dough
Make cheddar slow
Spread lettuce go
Incredible YO!
This is
JOHN SINGLETON
Willie Jones on the throne
Now he wit the shits
Walking with a gun
In his sweats
Smiling with his lips
Stalking on a hunt
For respect
With
-8643.jpg/225px-John_Scofield_(cropped)-8643.jpg "John Scofield")
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