Lyrics:
Oh you landsmen and you seamen come listen to my song
It's of a trick was played on me it won't detain you long
I came from sea the other day a fair
her to follow me
I said that we'll have a good time
Babe, I'll have you home by nine
Babe, why can't you read the signs
I'll write a tome 'bout us
I go by the name of Kel Mitchell!
And this is TeamBackPack! Let's go!
Yo, I'm so '96, back and on my grimy shit
Nigga get -whoever they'll sign me
would you listen to me /
I'm trying to live right but the streets is getting to me/Lord I'm feeling hopeless/
My God I'm feeling hopeless/
at the 'Kiss
'Cause I walk around with your whole advance on my wrist
Boning your women, drunk off Coronas and lemon
And you know I'm still writin' the mean,
You try to get in contact I don't respond back
Where the god at come back smellin' like cognac
Baby beware I'm tryin' my best to be fair
Aye yo-the
Jones
What a thug from the street
Who was hoeing his heat
And who knows to that lady named Simone
I am from the streets where thuggies dyin plenty
Have to be careful if you die before your twenty
I make a vow mi haffi reach before mi seventy
open doors
Where are my thumbs
I am too dumb
I'm sick of you niggas
I'm sick of you bitches
Go say what you want about me and my riches
I'm
want to smoke with us you better bring an ounce
'cause we get down with a southern bounce
P-Town led the fair where I move the pounds
Now I'm coming
can't lose huh you ain't winning
It's not undone coming where I come from I'm not suppose to be here from the beginning
So I'm blowing indoor out
Nothings fair get it all
Used to get it for the low
If nothings there then no one cares
You gotta get up your own
I had to learn from the losses
I
at the 'Kiss
'Cause I walk around with your whole advance on my wrist
Boning your women, drunk off Coronas and lemon
And you know I'm still writin' the mean,
The name is Big Boi, Daddy Fat Sax
The nigga that like them Cadillacs
I stay down with these streets
'Cause these streets is where my folks at
Better
The name is Big Boi, Daddy Fat Sax
The nigga that like them Cadillacs
I stay down with these streets
'Cause these streets is where my folks at
Better
unleashed and be embraced
"Ohh yeah so how about the gun!!?"
Look, I held it on my palm
I gave her count of 3 to tell me where it was she from
I Walked in
life was a book would you write changes
I would probably scribble out where there was time wasted
I know now that i'm bigger than my imagination
I'm from
bitch from Trinidad
Fuck her hard, then send her home
It's time to start my routine
In the streets, with the
Heat, you don't rhyme, you don't eat
Pockets
died in 1998
The year of my strong, fair rap collection
there are foot prints embraced far out on the frozen lake face
Depressed and kept from quite
Can’t run cause then I’ll look bad
But you can’t run from the facts
We been at war with the world In fact
I really want my freedom back
How long will this
on payin that back?
C'mon cat(Don't you take) me for weak, give an inch they take feet
Give 'em feet, they take the street
My city's called Everybody Eats,
you hear me)
Not a man for compromise and where's and why's and living lies
So I'm living it all, yes I'm living it all
And I'm giving it all, and I'm
Hundred thousand in the truck
That's a rented Maybach
When you see me in the
Streets just holler "Dirtbagz"
Where my dirtbagz at?
(Way up from the dirty
chapter
Live from home of the brave with dirty dollars
Beauty parlors and baby bottles and bowlin' ball Impalas
And street scholars majorin' in culinary
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