Lyrics:
You never thought that I'd be runner up
You a wonder twin nigga I'm a one of one
Michael jordan couldn't guard me one on one
Chillen with your
(John W. Wiggins/Anthony Smith/Michael Garvin)
The season for the rodeo is over
And he's usually back home this time of year
But I haven't heard
the videos I be bringing it like Mike in the 80s
Level of success based on my level of risk
You've been yelling for the lyricist
Then reveling this
Old
swojemu
Nie potrzebuję notatek
Pocą się w komentarzach, że rapuję z akcentem
Jak ty kurwo byś po polsku
Mówił będąc za granicą? 16 lat we Francji
Respekt
Sickology 101 futuristic B-Boyz shit
Your first lesson given to you by (Mr. Smith!)
KC MO stand up, young niggas represent
Ey, ask me what I
You should be fuckin' with (p-pimp like me)
How a motherfucker lookin' ugly when you workin' it for me
Cause I'm a fiend for the way you (w
Off the fly like I'm spyro
Spit fire while you
Smokin' on the hydro
I wanna be like Mike bro
Killin beats like I'm Michael
Myers
Stop drop and roll
Man
gon drake shit
He wan' tape and record me
Expensive ass, can't afford me
Pretty bitch just like Lori
These Michael B's love a Lori
You look for
The head banger
Verse One: Parrish Smith
Ka rank the boombox as my sound knock from blocks
as I chill and bust grills you take snapshots
The thing is, real legends aren't born by achieving a great feat once
After the first time, you are expected to do it again
And again
And again
Said
And now a behind-the-scenes treat from the
Original voice-over session for "Thriller"
With Michael
And Vincent Price you'll also hear
emocji opcji
Stopale most I to pcham w przód
Byś mógł usłyszeć bkf on nie przestanie krzyczeć
Gdy widzę mic'a to na chama wbijam
Bata zawijam macha
navy seals
You know we tote them Smith & Wessons not them Smith n Will's
Bullets fill a nigga up jus like burger happy meal
Okay who say they want
and Jimmy Smith up on the organ
Gene Russell, the artist symbol of Chicago
Inivators like Michael White push out the Cal Tjader
Classic shit like Weather
split the wiggidy-water
[Chorus: x2]
You intrigued by the way, we do our thing
Do what?
Pick up the mic, hot, and make you swing
Say what?
Pick up
Smith and Wesson
(Uh uh uh), Bitch you guessed it
(Uh uh uh), Ran down I’m jetting
(Uh uh uh), You get the message
He wanted smoke I ran down he ain’t
shine through the midnight
And I'm just like moses run up on ya toe to toe in california
Diploma for my persona you like corona & pneumonia
You see
Franklin with a choppa let it sang
Aretha Franklin how my blicky droppin banger
Michael Jackson moon walk him for his chain
Freddie Kruger bout that paper
[Chorus]
[Keyshia Cole]
See, Mary J. I want you to understand you paved the way (for me)
I'm givin' homage (to you)
The head banger
Verse One: Parrish Smith
Ka rank the boombox as my sound knock from blocks
as I chill and bust grills you take snapshots
for that gold
All
Make this island
My land!
[Ratcliffe]
Make the mounds big, boys
I'd help you to dig, boys
But I've got this crick in me spine
[Smith
menneskekjenner
Æ e en menneskekjenner
Så vet du at æ e jævlig fake
Fuck you Hxnning
Fuck you Hxnning
For spesielt interresserte kan æ by på no godt
Du kan få fri,
Beautiful boy
Sisters and mother and fathers adore
Wishing you had a day
To sit by the fire and run to the shore
But there shines a light
Let these words be your Earth and moon, you consume every message
As I lead this army, make room for mistakes and depression
And with that being said,
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