Lyrics:
Uncle George and cousin Jack
Look at those fools peckin' on their back.
What joy!
That music thrills me.
It do.
Boy, it nearly kills me
Sister
off
People say I'm hard as Hennessy
And you soda soft
Man I'm talking to my enemies
And I'm sorta saw
But I treat my music like it's a craft
You
, the music
Yo check it yo
Women cry, children laugh, men dance
I refuse to lose self and try to win fans over
Weight on my shoulder fluctuates like Oprah's
My
tossing round a groove it takes a constant
Flow heated on the mic by all the rumors at at ya door
Sure we take a ripple out to shore
Like this sky so bright
I wanna dance with you all through the night
The music is bumping and no, I don't bite
I see that you're hiding, no need to be shy
Ven para acá
about to get wild
I can tell by the look of your smile
Really digging your style
Let me make the night worth your while
Oh boy, you're right in my
about to get wild
I can tell by the look of your smile
Really digging your style
Let me make the night worth your while
Oh boy, you're right in my
Rosey go cuckoo (Cuckoo)
I'ma lift you off your feet
Beat you till you're purple like Mewtwo (Baow, baow)
Keep a bad bitch in my sheets
She gon' do
Smokin' doobies till I get stoned, like I locked eyes with Medusa
Where my muses, I need music
I need you to not confuse us
Boy my flows can not be cloned,
Might take back street hidden house
Got sports car like like his garage is gym
Two sapphires on your neck that's his precious gems
Now AMG it's in boy
See when I heard this beat
I thought of various ways I could jump on this
Sharperly like a quickie, you know
Enormoss
Memories like yesterday
Too
'Cuz I'm a city boy, but I always dreamed of country life
Cruising down the backroads, getting blown by my wife
Pistol on my hip and my doggo in the bed
secret but know that I can't tell
My stones different colors I feel like a Power Ranger
Chew up the beat like a now later
(Quick) Had to get to the fetti
It ain’t my fault they music be dirt
Older bitch she a flirt
Smokin ole boy that got put on that shirt
Hit em where it hurt
I be waiting they say
Music stops *]
[* Different beat starts *]
[Master P]
Life in the ghetto is serious, mysterious it may seem
Peep out the window I see nothin' but dope
song
Me, Squeaky, Flex and J, on Saratoga Street
Smokin white boys, bumpin dopefiend beats
Eighty-eight, my pockets wasn't straight, but I was makin
to know we brought back the be -Boy
[Chorus]
Hip, Hip-Hop (I'm a bring it back) x4
[Verse 2]
Hip hop is so wack, the beats are fighting back
And I was
of the wind...or maybe this is neoclassical folk music with a romantic yodeller floating elegantly overhead? Like a small gig in a beautiful shrubbery with harp
line I lay is locking
You a hater, boy, stop your plotting, it'll be your blood we mopping
Talk about that major flavor, keyed up, cut like a razor
Castle-D boy, he's down with us
D.J. Red Alert, he's down with us
Robocop boy, he's down with us
Makin' funky music is a must
I'm number one.
People
mind
Music my passion, it’s getting that cash in
Move to the beat
Get these boys on their feet
I pick up the mic, record a hit in a night
If I see you
hot
Song done, drop it like a ass shot
Boy stuntin' got they ass hot
Go on nigga, drop 'em like a ass shot
Jump on this beat and get they ass hot
Go
She come from the 6, she feining for dick
She all on the wood, like a lumberjack
I call my young niggas, like Mikey and Sosa and
Now that boy can't
was by him
Whoever said big boys don't cry was lying
Yeah, cuz' i'm the biggest here
Wish that i could shed a tear
Took a trip up to a pier
Just so that
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