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Yee yee! We've found 85 lyrics, 43 artists, and 50 albums matching master copy.

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a fortune up in black and white
But I'll need a master copy.
You're gonna give your love to me
Shake an apple off the apple tree
When she moves it's
My nation known for the greatest
Yeah, your nation known for the bacon
Nigga, you not a clone you a makeshift
Uh, this the master copy
I'm
to copy Master P
I want to be free to live, able to have what I need to live
Bring the power back to the street, where the people live
We sick of workin'
A your youth you know, wew

For the master has come back, gong the originally
Run for the grand finale, mi inna mi Clarky-Wally
For the master has
you'll see the truth written by the masters
My niggas is chilling, getting high, relaxing
Envisioning, owning shit, yo it can happen
What do we own? Not
I got the world in my hands, the master plan
But I don't know why I keep calling (why I keep calling)
All of these girls at my shows they loving me
Drake
Copy this, copy that, all you are is a copycat
Same old beat, same old crap, suddenly they all think they can rap
Color scheme is whack, you call
copy Papii cause I'm your VR-All star
VR-All star, VR-All star
You fucks tryna replicate, but I'm a VR-All star
VR-All star, VR-All star
Stop tryna copy
if you study Egypt, you'll see the truth written by the masters
My niggas is chilling, getting high, relaxing
Envisioning, owning shit, yo it can
Create, copy and paste those are the orders
Blame everyone when you are just a copy
Close in your shelter of compromise 
Envy other lives to survive
of bullshit, weak ass albums
Bunch of lil' niggas tryna copy our style
When we originated this, whole mothafuckin' album had hits
That's why we up in the Ritz
interview
I was always wondering about you
Your whole group evolving different images around me

Acting like they don't copy me when they see me
You've
novacaine 

Bite off Rakim, you copy Big Daddy Kane 

You know my steelo, I rhyme against a million people 

who think they equal, disguisin as Jamaican
it from a mile away 
Puppet master so the child can play 
Go the distance, so the mile can wait 
All the fakes, w a smile that's cray
Im tired of liars
because
Can't you see my love even though we be with thugs

[Verse One: True Master]

Yo, when you least expect is when we attack, in fact
Your format, is
with a nigga that got it together
For real and even think his own thoughts
Everybody want to do what everybody else doing the copy cat is what
They
So classy its nasty 
Even with a headstart, still couldn't pass me
You can copy slang, but can't copy game
That is  all engrained
Liquid gold flowing
Because my life is turning into opposite of sloppy wrist
And all the bitches who forget about me want to ride my dick
Harder than the white kids that copy
Written by Sammy Masters, Richard Pope and Tex Satterwhite 
(As released by Patsy Cline 9/9/58) 

If I could see the world
through the eyes
Got supplies of beats so you don't have to wait
'Cause I'm the master blaster, drinking up the shasta
My voice sounds sweet 'cause it has to (looking
Written by Jimmie Rodgers
© 1933 Peer International Corp

Last night as I lay on the boxcar
Just waiting for a train to pass by
What will become
drama that's why it starts with ER
(I'm Hot) I'm by far the best stop the racket
I'm a master with a mic and green jacket
They can be the traffic write
I'm makin' her crawl, I'm makin' her run
I'm makin' it numb, I'm makin' it cum, I am
Young Weezy F. Baby
She wish she could make a copy of my dick
in your safe, got it cracking, it was fate
You the definition, nigga, laughing to the bank
I'm a master of my fate, plus I'm the type of nigga own

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