Lyrics:
stern and justice stood
And people were behavin' like
They ought ta good
There lived a lil' boy who was misled
By anotha lil' boy and this is what he said
fakin'
Okay you a killer right, and Miss Cleo is Jamaican
And Bob Marley is Haitian and me and Beyonce datin'
And Jesus Christ be hatin, got mad love
With the songs we creating and musically relating
Sex, niggas talk by bodies in chalk
Meanwhile, they boot-shaking
On some punk shit, faking
Wait, I
children
It's the lambs born in innocence
It's wondering if the good I know will last
To be seen by the eyes of the little ones
(*spoken* Yes bowling! The sport of kings! The sport of
queens! The sport of dukes... Earls... Moes... Johns...
anything that looks good when it's embroidered
intellectional expressium on yo' beloved's ignint face, de bitch gwine be contemplatin' a career of her own! see dat?
Look like she got her one good eye
can do is
Try again, try again, try again
Try again girl
Tiring, Tiring
I'm so tired of where I've been
Bob and weave, hide and bend
All to look good in
been so damn good
(Said this rap game's been good to me)
Hard times
(But I don't know how long that's gonna be, yeah)
I hope I don't go back
Never said I wasn't good at it
Cause I'm a static addict
No fear you gotta
Know I had it
If you know better
Spose to do better
So I know like al green
We
Never said I wasn't good at it
Cause I'm a static addict
No fear you gotta
Know I had it
If you know better
Spose to do better
So I know like al green
We
on stage
The man at hand that rule the school
And reach and teach the blind and find a way from A to Z
And be the most to boast I'm load and proud
(Feel me baby, it's on)
Uh, I was launched off the block, straight to the top
To yachts with helicopters, I'm so hot
Paparazzi, blinded by the rocks
"Bob ain't Hip-Hop" I don't know why, I guess it must be the stage name
Now put me on the track with any M.C., motherfucker know you better bring your
yourself
It's too bad you by yourself
You're too bad to be by yourself
If you like good company
Then you should come with me
I'm thinking I might fuck with
get good at the stunts, showing off by the end
Yeah, we'll steal sport cars from our dads
And we'll fail our exams cuz it's cool to be sad
Yeah,
the fort, fly rhymes I sport
I fought then brought you the knowledge you sought
So listen good, and listen well
Cause I +Raise Hell+ with the stories I
sorts of good sports, not the lords of 6/4 but the
Kings of timing. we're not down, we know why, because a lot of our
Time is spent wise, like ignoring
up by the devil as he looks and he smiles
Good at the game of tricknology
But I have knowledge of myself you're not fooling me
You see the answer
reversed
In '44, it was Polk and Clay, Clay came in second place
Then Lewis Cass lost to Taylor in this presidential race
In politics and sports,
it's such
the women, all the linen
All the jewels, huh
We sported Pele's, gold Dada's and Pirelli's
Sports cars, the good life'll give you a belly
But that's cool,
mining
Or dog sledge people
Say something, keep trying
Take this and don't shrunk my things
No shrunking
If you're rich, you look good
That's not
seen it work
"Hi uh you know bob uh hearing good things
About you I think we could be friends"
It doesn't work
(do something) do something (do
Something)
might get seen by a nigga with a contract
With a sports team or just a nigga that you figure could afford things
Like more rings for her fingers
She used
I thought the tropical breeze
And añejo tequila
Would do what it should
I thought that beach bonfire parties
And songs by Bob Marley
Would make
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