Lyrics:
o'clock (woo!)
Hungry 'bout to hit the IHOP (let's go)
After that, menage-a-trois
And he out by seven o'clock (p-YOON)
'Cause I'm a baller, thought I
the process getting loveless by myself
I used to wanna make hits, now I don't even wanna be signed
Unless it's Bay to that Pink Brick, 'cause I believe in his
you say G.O.O.D. Music?
Can you say G.O.O.D. Music?
And we do's this.
Uhn. Get ready for the next dynasty nigga!
Finally Famous the album comin' soon
your body scaled
I'm 'bout to hit by the box of tens through the mail
then reply beaten twelve sickness spinnin' on twenty-ones
We produce many guns,
it stops
Mindful of the building walls by the boulders and rocks
Aftershocks
2017, 2022, next hit could slow the earth's spin and break a levee too
Got
the Nineteen Naughty Nine MC
Microphone controller, master of ceremonies
So remember why you hate me
I'm Naughty By Nature you're Severed By
it's passed that, we exit
We just stare at memes, laugh, and we hit the next one
And our self esteem is so messed up and threatened
By other people's
this summer
So, when the sun hit it look like Baby or somethin'
So, when I come through the ladies praise me or somethin'
Like, Weezy's the man
If
Caught him lacking better pose (cheese)
Money from selling the dope (fiends)
Getting hits like I'm Stolone (creed)
Bet we hit it on the nose (pussy)
Me
'em grown and then watch 'em lead
Let me proceed, bumpin' that that Californication, by the Red Hot
Fuck around and then hit 'em with a red dot
Y'all
fore wall, necklace wearin' beard
You don't want this money till it's rich
Buy my album, coded by Dirty, set you free
Go against the grain, I got
only by gouging out my creed
Unpredictable
c stranger to a strangers pull
I don't play the games you play
I ain't arrangeable
I generate original
Youngin' wit' a dream but nobody gave a shit about it
Ten years later pick up a pen, write a hit about it
And back then I thought I'd be defined by how
career's a prophecy now
Better grab your jacket, 'cause in this world we live in it's cold out
And when my album hit the stores it's sold out
Like these
and really
With the dart, hit the target
And see it fly
While your standing mesmerized
Ether and skies
Until it lands and arrives
To the goal
In search like
How freaky can you get to a long fat dick
Hella freaky like i said to a song that hit
I'm the dirty rapper Too Short, the triple X
Run up in
of a magazine ain't even got a album out
Hop at da streets my delete cuh my hits out
Now I'm da one everybody wanna talk about
Hustle hard ball harder dats wat I
and bring the mail
I'm passing the time by reading
She way from Florida but mailing pictures out to me
I was thankful in that time of need
No more than
enough
Drive-by's, blood-spattered on my shoe, I'm not hood enough
But why cry?
I Waka Flocka Flame, hit your block up
Thug life, it's in my veins, go
yo' league, I smell like Creed, walk by and smell money
Fly them bales in right to your doorstep, that's mail money
Young bull did his first hit
Chorus:
Runaway, run for your life he's returned...
[Carlos Coy]
I ain't worked in 2 years, guess who's back
Still, my whole albums sell like crack
In too deep can't get no sleep
The moment I stop Ima feel like I'm weak
24/7 I'm on a new level
I'm trying to see stacks by the end of the week
I
people to buy
Well how's this for a publicity stunt? This should be fun
Last album now 'cause after this you'll be officially done
Eminem killed by
group 4
And you got defeat by the one u need 2 for
These other spitters ain't hot they are lukewarm
Have you ever seen a grime spirit in it's true form
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