Lyrics:
Expectations to get rep
Ain't never begged yet
When I wanted to get pence, hustle
To be, I'm exactly what my neck says
That sket said I tried to cash in
take it there
Whatever, pence, we got him nigga
Yeah, now I'ma strangle him dead
No doubt, it's real right now, motherfucker
Y'all niggas done done
Godzilla
Whether guilt is a skrilla, Franks or banks, five pence or ten cents
Whatever the currency we currently intense like great sex
You make bets
And I'll play Mums
You play Glockenspiel
And I'll play drums
My name is Derek from the den
I deal in shillings and in pence
I'll get you any deal you
Off like Jada, robbin the bank
I got this money thing covered, from the dollar to the franc
The pounds to the pence, it's like hustlin backwards
Nuttin
La unica que puede darnos vueltas es Dios
Hay tan pocas flores ya, peces, agua y
Pence que la vuelta no daria
Hoy tu hijo me respira
Si el Equilibrio
the tire or the rims
Mhm hm british gyal, mhm
Spin you like pence, mhm hm
'Til your pussy wetter than the River Thames
Mhm hm
Gwen tell Madge, Madge tell
much sun will burn!
When you're feeling tired and lonely
You see people going home
You can't make the train fare
Or the six pence for the phone
much sun will burn!
When you're feeling tired and lonely
You see people going home
You can't make the train fare
Or the six pence for the phone
you 50 pence
Snitch you make me switch you sound and look just like a bitch
Whether you're poor or whether you're rich I'll leave you lyin' in
offenders, supreme folders
One-twenty bomb holders let 'em off and explode
The battlefield haunting, the daunting
Wu-Tang dance, deadly emits six pence
and the pence
And the dollars and cents, oh we lose?
(Oh Simon) Are you atoms in a jam jar?
(Simon) Are you somewhere in my soul?
(Simon) Are you nothing but
1-2 1-2
I walked around for hours
Two ten-pence pieces in my hand
I was alone and freezing
Still trying hard to understand you
I left
'Cause he was Lord of the Lightning,
Though "socially frightening",
But never out to sell.
Their nickels and pence
Meant more than did sense,
he was Lord of the Lightning,
Though "socially frightening",
But never out to sell.
Their nickels and pence
Meant more than did sense,
And not
away
The lover who really loved
The dancer who danced
To the last song
Don't wanna take sides
Don't wanna make sense
Of pounds and pence
I want to be
You know when you've gone way past the negotiation stage?
I cannot make money and still make sense
Fuck your pounds, fuck your pence
Fuck your
Co-coming out in her clothes
Going up and down on this pole
Need them bills to pay her bills
Gangsta shit do we really bound
Pence a second they hanging down
you're wearing?
Money's ugly confidence
You sacrificed the poem of your imagination
For these pounds and pence
Me, I take the cynic's role
Throw scorn
much sun will burn!
When you're feeling tired and lonely
You see people going home
You can't make the train fare
Or the six pence for the phone
contracts with the devil, bust guys iller
We flatten your town like Godzilla
Whether guilt is a skrilla, Franks or banks, five pence or ten cents
Whatever
offenders, supreme folders
One-twenty bomb holders let em off and explode
The battefield haunting the daunting
Wu-Tang dance deadly emits six pence
Spiral
looked up I looked out a window
Where there a fair maid I chanced to spy
I called her in we spent two and two pence
And all remaining was a crooked boy
I
Trust, fling you over that fence, next time
Think about consequence
You batty boy, if you had sense
You would not ask Jme for ten pence
Serious, I know you
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