Lyrics:
and sightless, half-wit boy
But Lewis was my name though I could not say it
I was born and raised in New Orleans
My spirit was wild, so I let the river
recognize real type of time
Real man ain't supposed to be in his feelings, that's a crime
Half the time I pay attention to all these rappers lyin'
Real
To be a man in a B-boy stance and advanced from the go
I'll trace outer space with a uh
The baby-sitter of styles; I've traveled miles with
Bitches
[Intro: Ghostface Killah]
Aiyo, come on duke, pass that shit, man (I just got this)
Come on man, what the fuck you mean you just got it man?
You
two-doors, gave the charges to the boys
Now I'm bigger than the blogs, now the topic on the Forbes (woo, come on)
Catch a fed charge, now we pardoned by
traps catching anything he can
Gotta make a living he's a Louisiana Man
Gotta make a living he's a Louisiana Man
Muskrat hides hangin' by the dozen
Yeah
Hey
Yeah
Partially functional, half of me is comfortable
The other half is close to the cliff like Mrs. Huckstable
These boys got them
camouflaged by deed?
I'm not a pro, I just dogged the lead?
California dreams,
Where we sick of boring Cleveland weather man
Wishin' for heat, I guess I
and I got new ones
No fake ones, trust no one
It's Boy Better Know 'til I die
Tryna run up in the bank like Bonnie and Clyde
'Cause
Man get money
Kill-for-the-scrill was, in, my, nature
Tote M1's and keep, the, block hot
Sell raw coke to keep, my, Glock, hot
Never add taxes to, my, price, man
And if a boy
down by the dock,
the boat she sailed at five o'clock.
"hurry boys now", said whack
"or before we're there we're all be back
carry him if you can"
did the first one
Five album run, now the cursed one, it's a blessed one
By the time y'all hear this, we be half way through the next one
Bless up
and a half it come back in nine dont it?
Now stay low key when the money keep comin'
Keep some n****s on your team, show them suckas they don't want it
By
a room that's a womb for this mess.
Sick boy, sick boy, bitten by a tick boy,
Tell me how it feels to be buried while you breathe,
Stones and sticks boy
What ever happened to sad songs and waltzes
What ever happened to George Jones
What ever happened to Jolene stealing our man
Instead of sleeping with
half n' half
Well, the boy moved north and he found a wife
The mountains shook, Carolina cried
If you live close by, you'll hear James Taylor sing
But
of waitin'
These industry niggas startin' to get outta hand
Like I won't find your whereabouts by stompin' 'em out ya man (what?)
We killin' New York, even
Spitta back the truck up
There go the lean man
Thugga we done lucked up
I mix the two dro by my
Bitch and then we rough fuck
I leave a Crego to the lot
I come through your block?
Sheek, Funk Doc, Meth on top
Porsche, 300 horse fly by, back open pumpin How High (How High)
Yeah, can y'all see that
Dark grey vistas of this weathered place
The blue star on The Nautilus
The old boys like chimneys
Mass of filth and rubbish outside the houses
By the light of a pale moon
Tutankhamen
Half past high noon
Tutankhamen
Put you in the picture, 1884
I'm up to date on the literature
But I
Talk to me man
This ya boy Young Hova, yo turn the motherfucking noise up
We'll get right into the proceedings this evening
Headphones are
yuh
I don't make a scene, yuh
Boy, you half a man, I should've called you Charlie Sheen, yuh
Man, that flow is mean, yuh
'Cause it's in my genes,
be movin' the tan rock
That's the end of that, no, I cannot talk a lot
Man, these niggas out here, I swear they talk a lot
Drive-by on a rat, you
.jpg/300px-Half_Man_Half_Biscuit_(22017516678).jpg "Half Man Half Biscuit")
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