Lyrics:
Man, this is the last.. record on the album
I got my man Craig Craig in the house
Kevin Dee from Midnight Express Crew's in the house
Charles'
that shit
You guys are way overbudget
Yo, listen, I do not wanna lose my job for of this
Love you guys, but I got two kids in private school
And by
And expect them not to know what a woman's clitoris is
Of course, they're gonna know what intercourse is
By the time they hit fourth grade
They've got
tho' yo' ceo talk shit get slapped hard
The backyard is where we get our scrap on
The black car drive by then you get capped on
[Master P]
Whassup
tho' yo' ceo talk shit get slapped hard
The backyard is where we get our scrap on
The black car drive by then you get capped on
[Master P]
Whassup
my first album going hard on diss last one diss last one made diss album in 7 days in my home studio blessed by God to be on diss ride i rode da wave
tut kakanı!
Sorarım nerede bitiş bayrağı (yo, yo, yo)?
Benden yüzüne bir seferde
Erkekçe çakar şikâyet
İnkâr et! "Bu laflar sana değil"
De kendi bokunu
music's best
I cruise for the press like
Who's gonna make an album this good?
Daddy, yes
He's the best and it's two six now
Still no one's testin', most
a fuck, say you could run that shit back
And fuck your loud pack, and fuck your Snapchat
Cherry Bomb, the greatest fuckin' album since the days of sound
Ha ha, ha ha
Say ho, everybody say ho
Ba-buh-wayo
I said shake your soul like way back in the day-yo
Ba-buh-wayo, everybody say ho
Everybody say
a fuck who it is
Don't let em fuck yo' paper man, please Big
Focus your mind man, do your albums, make them hot joints
Man fuck these niggaz man
Fuck
This is a public service announcement
Sponsored by Just Blaze and the good folks at Roc-A-Fella Records
"Fellow Americans, it is with the utmost
and ne'er do-well cads,
Drink up me 'earties, yo ho.
Aye, but we're loved by our mommies and dads,
Drink up me 'earties, yo ho.
Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's
yo album done came and gone and you stupid ass still waitin
stackin paper off my work
Them no good son of a bitches got me livin for concerts
I
a fuck who it is
Don't let em fuck yo' paper man, please Big
Focus your mind man, do your albums, make them hot joints
Man fuck these niggaz man
Fuck
Killa what's really good my nigga
Un casa what's really good
What's really good flee
Yo, what's really good
I got ta get on this album
I just
Yo, yo, yo, Money Boy, Goldgräber Gucci Gang
Bang, Bang, Oh bla mein Auto ist echt
Und kein Spielzeug von Matchbox
Mein Lamborghini ist grün
So wie
on his
old album cover he was a she thang
so Nigga please, Nigga please don't step to deez
motherfuckin' Real G's
Yo Dre, what's up? *bang*
Yo Dre, what's
The name is Eazy Bob Wizzy
You welcome to the album fam
You welcome to the album fam
You welcome to the album fam
You welcome to the album fam
A yo l go by
Just point out the bounce
Yes, just point out the bounce nigga
Yo, listen
Rumor has it "The Blueprint" classic
Couldn't even be stopped by Bin
a meeting getting my ass kissed (no homo)
By a white man 'cause his daughter fuck with my ad-libs (uh-oh)
I done dropped dick in her friend, I'm like, "My
ve germe yo
Bana ne, karıştırma beni
Bana ne, bütün suç senin
Bana ne, dokunmadım ben
Bana ne, yok et şunu hemen
hoes that's 'posed to be yo's
Seein' my haters in a dark alley tormented by mind
Dodgin' the (Tech.. 4x N9ne.. 4x)
Now here's the message
Liberate
comunista
A carne que é da rua é nossa também
Foda-se essa porra, yo
Ai, ai
Essa musica já é a pior do álbum, eu acho
Né? Porque ninguém se importa com
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