Lyrics:
of a master
You never thought you'd be bodied by a bastard
A bachelor who backspin on breakbeats
Break necks of broke souls who hate me
Hate he? you can't
niggas, break bread with the boy
Joe, they breakin' bread with the boy
Tell Big Pun nigga, Stunna ride for the boy
Win or lose I ride for my boy
It's
This is jail, 3 burners made Tina Turner dance
Probably, you kidin me? Only my man bust side to me
I was gotta be slicin the pot, if I divide it by 3
settlin'
Big iron hips with the holsters
I'd be lookin' mighty fine on a poster
Wanted by the law, but the laws don't apply to me
If I was a cowboy,
Phenomenon O.C.
Big L, 0-3-9 baby
Diggin' In The Crates
Yeah yeah, this is Joe the God, Terror Squad reppin'
Yo, yo, yo
I'm from a place where
Life handed me lemons
I jump back in the public eye and squirted lemon juice in it
By now you just wish I'd fucking die but I electrify
Get
of a pimp, it be in the DNA
To know what you thinking
I'm speaking to you like a psychic
Lil mama know she lovin it so don't try to fight it
I can make
and a gumbo boat (nope)
Heavy motion, got the shit on the floor (yup)
Room lookin' like the scene from Blow (movie)
All blues, big racks like woah (damn)
Citizen is evident the denizens
Took over the big house on some Nat Turner shit
Shoulders back, hair tied to the fucking firmament
Can't be like us,
your b*tch Big Meat
She givin' one blood, one love, on dubs
140 thousand the first week uhhhhh
[Hook: The Game]
Remix, remix, remix, remix
Remix, remix,
the green)
Two-tone Cuban just to go with my ring
Before I signed a deal, hoes never been mean
Mama made a star on 1017
Big KATO, Nigga, don't play green
big sounds
Onomatopoeia boom clap pow
Ima keep on squeezin' till the last round
He jammed up in that squeeze check his background
He got folded by cops
Everybody running wild, yeah
Tell me what to do
What the fuck is goin' on?
Well I know, well I know, well I know
So many baby mamas around we
Are
top me)
It's just us and ten bitches
Finna go to Pappies
(It's just ten bitches)
I just caught a giant bag of blues
Feel like Jeremy Shockey (Big bag)
this)
Cuz I Got That On Me (i keep it on me. i really do)
U Done Boi (Joe Mama Always Trippin)
[Verse 1]
U Know They Me Mama Wit An T Out Here (trunks)
guess I'm singing the blues, always paying
My dues Is it really fake news, I guess that's why
We confused The same system that's corrupting our youth
The Rich Way
BMG
BMG
BMG
Reno
Tell them dig brody the nem up with his bum ass
They know we gon' empty them clips to my gun jam
I go by Lil' Walka
leav'em in the back take off like kites bro
Cause I ain't slipping up too many moves I ain't made
Big blue bills baby no I ain't playin
Leave them lames in
Fuck Prince William
Fuck the Queen
This is America
My president is black and my Lambo is blue, nigga
Yeah, yeah
I got Pac in the trap and I'm breaking it
the shower on
Comin' up with baggies and a towel on
Only if mama knew the type of shit that I was on
I really know hustlers, dope and coke jugglers
You'll
[Verse 1]
Step in the club with my air force ones
In the back of my bub, I got air force dones
Full of that red, white, and blue I'm amped up
Fake
Big Mon, Big Boss!
Feel like I'm drownin' Surrounded by forms of bigotry
I thought I had felt pain When that bitch was playin' in them sheets
But it
time futures
Small town paper said we had it all
Chorus:
Up until the night me and Billy Joe drank way too much for Blue Buck Road
"born to be wild"
the wind blow
Mama was right
Life got a way of throwing curves
Drop the ball with proverbs
Now I'm dunking like a Spur
They say its church in my verse
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