Lyrics:
to pass it on
Two years ago, I thought it'd be my last song
Me, Squeaky, Flex and J, on Saratoga Street
Smokin white boys, bumpin dopefiend beats
give you what you need
(TS)
My plane touches down at eleven forty-five
I'm comin through, want you, bout to show you why
I got the game from
my bitch kinda reddish
With that white girl credit
White sand by the kilo like a white pearl desert
Y-M T-S's all white pearl letters, motherfucka
on the concrete (yeah)
In front of a residence
A million white motherfuckers on my back like I shot the President
Why do I call myself a nigga you ask me?
Because
And niggaz throw your TS's up (beat Novacane)
Go figure it, Joe Crack runnin' New York
Who woulda thunk it, God above and Pun did
Yeah, they came while I
to ya real nigga, take it how ya want
Yo, These are the do's and these are the don'ts
I'll give it to ya real nigga, take it how ya want
Live life by
I dress to impress
Got dept on my chest
I Wear ts spiffy like a suit vest
If I was graded by my fit I'll pass every test
This drip is tragic
Top ts
My flow was opium, we cock bottles and open them
The relevance
Stop by, tryna see a nigga
All I buy is these trees, king
100 ki's in them
ts prescription I keep da Glock up on my side 30 rounds that clip extended play w/ us ts get wicked dirty white rocks stuff in my bridges I got black
Limits of my sight
Obliterate my reason
Entangled in its essence
Exposed to the unknown
I can only trust
This white spaceship
Knows exactly where to land
dick hard
Cold
Hard cash fuck my life up
Got me a new promotion by stabbing peoples shoulders
I can't be at the bottom sorting my bosses folders
So I
Niggas rockin’ designer and foreign
Want my money enormous
I’ll rather rock white ts and jordans
More than likely I got it i’m scorin’
Turn the song up so
hostage to see we the savior we need
No longer continue the cycle of violence by the hand my people
We the ones that gotta take action to receive all
huh, huh, huh, huh
All these white vans give a nigga paranoia
Make me wanna grab all my
Gwalla and hit the border
Cause I ain't worth them late nights
comin' for my
Dogs in the morning and if I die by a slug
The death of a true thug
Tell me will my niggas mourn
Me? Gettin' blowed out
High, watch me murder
And the ruthless strife for a grip on life that only the sourdough knows!
North by the compass, North I pressed; river and peak and plain
Passed like a dream I
Cowell, I can't let you ex-factors survive
Nah, the time's right and they finally limelightin' the god of this rhyme writin'
My mic can only be likened
Holes wit' tampons, i'm serious
I've been plugged in like a landline
And I throw up my hands you
Just throwin' up hand signs
When the hand 9 by the Jimmy
song
Me, Squeaky, Flex and J, on Saratoga Street
Smokin white boys, bumpin dopefiend beats
Eighty-eight, my pockets wasn't straight, but I was makin
the corner.
Close to the end, down by a river.
Seasons will pass you by.
I get up, I get down.
III. I Get Up, I Get Down
Anderson/Howe
In her white lace
You
I'll do my thing and be gone by dust
Trust
I'm tryna eat just
Shank come long like a elephant tusk
Unknown ts wahn try link up so any complications I
pepper and
Mild sauce on that dick
Lemon pepper and mild sauce on that dick
If your dick taste plain
Then I'm throwing a fit
My pussy only taste like water
niggas is trigger happy, got Pataki scared
This town ain't big enough for both of us and I ain't goin' nowhere
There it is, plain and simple like Jigga
Respected by my peers from Drizzy
To Cole to Kenny
Thank you for the love and inspiration plenty
Yeah, I'm loved by many
And only hated by a little
Now I
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