Lyrics:
to find
You know the line, "Don't judge the book by its cover"
Read every page cause the nigga's my brother
But it shoulda stated, that the book's on one's
demigods
Apathy and Achilles
I'm half king half god
Like I'm Queen Nefertiti
Float along on every song
Powered by Archimedes
And I'm born to be a star
Like
homies bout to pop up
Got it on em like a potluck
Need a telescope to spot us, by the star dust
Cause I done grew some wings
I came out just to party, I’m
Non-stoppin', I'ma hit 'em till the block explode
Hip hop, R&B, Pop-tart, what you want?
I even got a little rock 'n' roll
The most creative, original, got 'em
where i sleep, now give me my key
[Verse 8: N.O.R.E.]
New York get the blood money, dirty cash still sweet
We will blackwall street by the swapmeet with
first song I drop could touch your whole catalog
I can’t trust that little nigga he tattletale
I’m blowing gas out the whip nigga how it smell
Too gas up
as hell, yeah, she feisty, she will fight you
Like they cut my ears off, now you can't tell me shit
Last song, I hit a home run, now I'm pitching like a fit
with old timers
My name's a reminder of a
Pop song people forgot
And I can't keep a girl, no
Because as soon as the sun comes up
I cut 'em all loose
finna go to jail
I just ran over a pedestrian
Robbed my little cousin 'cause I
Found out he bisexual
And I sold a twelve year
Old kid a weed edible
I just
Rubber baby buggy bumpers, bumpin' the track
Sally sells her seashells by the seashore, she don't slack
A little bit of the better butter into
shitting out pop stars like a gum ball machine. Simon Cowell’s got his own little factory line, young boys in tight clothes with big dreamy eyes. A.D.D is
a stereotype
Driven by some people up in Ariel Heights
Here's a scenario
Young Cole pockets is fat like little Terrio
Dreamville, give us a year we'll be
him of GZA back then I was a cold
Little nigga painting pictures
Avalon did that, six pack
Raised by them killers that’ll never
Bring them kids back
of that ol', that good ol'
Yankee up north Dirty south, Yankee music
Uh, it ain't where you from, homey
It's how hot you are, Nicolette, let's, come
gone fly
Put it on boss, so I won't lie
I used to be young but I'm grown now
Hit a few licks, so we known now
Kicked a little south, so it's on now
Do
it's mine
Thank you to my pops, yeah, just for raising me right
I could've been outside selling dope by the light
With nobody to care and everybody
scared of who? It ain't no competition (what?)
Not to mention, got extensions, holdin' Scottie Pippens
Try to rob, I'll pop your mental (Dirty Bay)
Gorilla in the jungle, man, I don't sing song
Bang my chest like my name King Kong
Brickatu, brickatu, man gon' make them fall
Brickatu, brickatu,
to the shorties, tell them we think they're cute
We flirt with them a little bit
Then we take them home, we smash, and then it's on to the next one
It's the Jacobs
don't wanna talk
Lets get to business
Nigga fuck you pay me
No I want pop out but
If they ask I'll still say maybe
I'll still say maybe
Writing songs in
All my favorite metal songs make the devil seem cool and sick
He's scary that Beezlebub, he's spooky and he's slick
So evil on the cover of Holy
a favor yo
Yo tell everybody on this side of the stage
To just move back a little cuz it's about to get real rowdy
in the front yo, they comin yo
I
EA, my zone (EA)
Got it by myself, ain't nobody put me on (ain't nobody put me on)
Turn a pop song to a real scrap song (to a real scrap song)
I just
There's a rumor going round Toyland
It's about Noddy the dirty little man
They say he done a dirty
By lifting up his shirty
With Big Ears
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