Lyrics:
my trick ain't for kids, if you dig 'em, you'll get smacked
I'll clock ya, I'll spring forward, you fall back
Every album that I drop has got more
bitch for years, now you Juan hoe
(Go to Lennox & Broadway you dumb ass nigga)
He own the 40/40 got you in Atlantic City
Bitched your budget outta
the atlantic, for a day
I've been looking for my Pacific girl
She's exactly who I'm dreaming for
We'll lay in the sand up by the shore
And then I won't need
and workin'
Would be he be found, found, found
In a ho (ho) tel (tel) room (room) shot up (shot up)
With his dick shoved in some B got a lot up
Bill Gates
Bruno
A anna bonanna(?) bananafanafuno
Yet you know Shafino=20
Met her in a trio
Souped up my (glass) jet flew her at the wheel
I'm somewhat
Released in: 1985 album "We Are The World" by USA For Africa.
She wakes up stunning every morning
Like an angel of the light
Makes me wonder, am I
a car. No
Dame and Biggs bitch for years, now you Juan hoe
(Go to Lennox and Broadway you dumb ass nigga)
He own the 40 40 got you in Atlantic City
You're now tuned into the mu'fuckin greatest
Turn the music up in the headphones
Tim, you can go and brush your shoulder off nigga I got you, yeah
This the greatest fucking album you gon listen to
This the greatest fucking album you gon listen to
This the greatest fucking album you gon listen
I got by
Creflo pray Mike Vick payed bobby brown stray Whitney lost weight
Kimbo Slice on the pad when I write
That Mayweather money looking funny in
Yo nephew, give me some of that No Limit shit
Yeah,
We got my nigga Fiend in the house
C-Murder in this motherfucker
Mystikal all up in this
see, the hood fucked up
I got a plan for the crisis
Bring the dope in on boats
And lower cocaine prices
That's stage one of my plan
To pass by depression
albums up, I went platinum, I went gold
I did all that shit, I'm a man, y'all niggas fucking getting on some new shit
Getting hype or something, all
But you don't have to call me darlin', darlin'
You never even called me by my name
Well I've heard my name a few times in your phone book
(Hello,
Uh-huh (keep loving)
Uh-huh (you baby)
In atlantic city (yeah)
Where all the girls at baby
This song goes out
To all the women in the club
This 15-year-old bastard got drunk and stuck like
The kid in the GangStarr vid, +Just to Get a Rep+
Pop goes the clip, moms out on the steps
See
to Atlantic
Thought this was luck? Well I planned it
I'm not big gas I'm gigantic
Yeah this the tip of the iceberg
Bottoms up till the ice burn
Used to whip in
throw your hands up in the air
How many people got Nike's on?
If you got your Nike's on, put your feet up in the air
If you don't got Nike's on
I
you
Then up to New York
Struck up by cold
Modern art high fashion
Gettin’ lost in Manhattan
All the lights in Times Square
Went to a show in Broadway
of tracks
To add to the wall full of plaques
Hanging up in the office in back of my house like trophies
Did y'all think I'ma let my dough freeze?
Ho
heal it
That's the real Atlanta
Lot of rich white folks up in Buckhead, wanna steal Atlanta
Kill and destroy everything that feel Atlanta
Fuck that,
comes back
Put your make up on
And fix your hair real pretty
And meet me tonight
In Atlantic City
Well I got a job trying to put my money away
But I've
single one of you
Told me I wouldn't be nothin'
Bad kids wanna ride with me
Savage, she gon' slide for me i know
I'll pull up by myself, yeah
Oh, woah,
the Beamer (oh-oh)
I put that girl in a P1 (oh-oh)
She make a mess then she clean up (oh yeah)
She call her friend, her name Tina
I turn that shit
.jpg/310px-Ringo_Starr_and_all_his_band_(8470843180).jpg "Ringo Starr & His All Starr Band")
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