Lyrics:
something to eat
And I ain't talking bout no pizza rolls, Junior
Catch me out by the pool with my Cartier's on
Talking shit to my bitch on my cellular phone
I rather play it cool while me and Dromen make moves
Shoutout to Made too, this brought to you by the crew
I wrote this just to show my fans some love
started
I ain't bothered with that nonsense
You can miss me with that gossip
BSM before the the squad shit
block one ten is where it started
Bust it out
and keepin it true
Takin out your granddaddy and his punk ass crew"
Your kid'll get mad, but Wilt didn't run
But what can you say, it's like father like son
either
If you catch me by the runway it's the one that's for the PJ
This one is for my lyricists - courtesy of my DJ
(I can't control it, can't hold it,
What the fuck do I look like
Being a slave to slave
Mane the definition of support
Done changed these days
AND DID's my black album
Then I back out
acts like me and your daughter, did
I be coughin' layin' in the coffin
Step out the fantasy world you be lost in
Dead man walkin', engage you
You'll still see me
I go forward right by 3 3 3
I'm Jamie, don't watch J M E
I do what I want, I'm free free free
Wiley's my bredrin, he's got an album
plays fuck me
Kick 'em out when they try to get touchy
Qb/Southside, if you wanted to Trestle
Man your man is hot
You don't wanna get next to
Like 50's
Kicks, snares, change the beat game
Cali like Big said and Big did
I hope nobody got offended what I said
You wanna act crazy, I aim for your head
Do
more perogies on
Please stay, we'd love to have you
Oh, and by the way, my son says he bought an
Album from you on his doorstep in the city"
Mighty
Hov in ‘03, I feel like Hov in ‘03
Black album then I’m back out, Yuh
Hov in ‘03, I feel like Hov in ‘03
Black album then I’m back out, Yuh
Cha, ya
motherfucker
One by one, we'll start to subtract
And see how many motherfuckers got your back
'Cause when it comes down to it, we outs to clown
It's them
Think I can do it like K Dot.
Think I can do it like Cole
Count 'em, six albums to my name by twenty-one years old
Straight up from the 'TUC' y'all know
hit
Won't say all of that, just don't let it be you who I hit man
Holla at
Send hollows no don attached, smack the shit out You, clip you, toss it,
things by the thousands
Did you hear my on the radio
I get a check from the radio
I take no O's
I take no L's
All I do is win under this spell
My career
song probably points a finger, jabs, and makes a swift kick to the head. 'Where Were All Of You' basically contrasts the world's push for defending
Bounce over the 312 hit the island for kicks,
cnastasia Boulevard look out - it's OIlie Twist!
Outside of the territory, most of the time,
So when
on and on and on
Glorious times immortalized by these glorious rhymes
The notorious mind
The story goes on and on and on
From here on out you can address me as carrot top
like I
Just got hit with dementia
And should you bring it to a beat
Just know that you'll get ended
Album on the way
I wanna see these haters stop me
so faded, broke wit a album
But bitches on my dick like I ate it
I'm use to smellin fish, but not that kind
Look you's a hoochie, want to do me,
You don't need to love me now, I'm all good
I ain't tryna lure you out, don't be baited off the hook
You gon need a flashbang by the way I made you look
ahead and call me gay
We know I make you butt sore
Sweaty and played out just like a cheap and
Rugged hump whore in a dump boy
What you wantin' dehydrated
that nigga see
Like Anita Baker
Tell a bitch, bye, ho, I'll see you later
And I'm so high, 55 floor elevator
And that bitch gon' eat me up, now or later
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