Lyrics:
All my chains getting broken at the sound of your voice
All my ways getting changed by the thought of your love
All my pain being broken by the light
mean anything
Through thick and slim we gon' win we a team by any means y'all
[Chorus: x2]
The touch of his hand the sound of his voice
The way
nothing else helps
Yo shit will never be felt
If you ain't
Ego stroking
Masturbation
What cha sayin
Sounds like
Constipation
Pose to be
Shitin' on niggas
on the payroll
By selling your soul
I know this for a fact
So I think about my dreams
And how they make me feel
Got thoughts in my head
Like pennies I collect
I'm
[Jeff] Let, Let, Let's Go
[Announcer] Calling all cars, calling all cars
Be on the lookout someone has stolen the D.J.
Agent F.P. get on the case
mix it up like juicy lacore
I put it on her, time to rock some juicy catore
Take a backseat lets do it in the bj
Yeah I know that sounds so cliche
be told, I let em be
I let em go, they borrow flows, the petty thieves
I cant keep them, thoughts leave ya, thought deeper
More than a role like Ray J
it, Tip in the RAW, wick lit the Dro up
When shawty shoulder lean, I know it's about to go up
Hold up, I fill a Illa J, blowing Donuts
It's so nuts,
It's a beautiful sound
When they all fall
Like a million raindrops
Falling from a blue sky
Kissing your cares goodbye
They all fall
Like
Now she is some gargoyle-looking bitch in a trailer park.
Has 5 kids by who knows how many fathers an absolute dunce
her voice it sounds like a bark.
nights had no songs
Why, because the D.J. was gone
Smiles you used to dance and sing around
Now were replaced by frowns
And it was up to me to solve
Tou smashed in the face by the vase of Cool J
I'm--[scratches]
I'm a beast on the microphone, a night stalker
A killing machine, a savage street
Been trapping by the pound
Been trapping by the pound
Not a word not a sound
Move around move around
I come from Memphis
I come from them trenches
I come
by sayin' his name?
When all I gotta say is you's a bitch
Yeah, I'm talkin' to you nigga
You ain't no killa, on the riz-illa
So High Beam my nigga,
Before I put it in I smack her ass (smack it)
Pull out my iPheezy, hit record, turn on the flash (haha)
We gon' make a movie like Ray J and Kim
And it's going to be your life by the sounds of it
And I'm just so proud
I just had to call and sound like my
Cheery self when I'm happy
So anyway, it's
bread street
That's straight cash, me and Belly with a hunnid Arabs
40 sound like a plane crash
I can't get away
Money keep on falling (falling)
Or like the foam left by the wave
Pounding on like a charging bull
It is how my blood knew haste
And it incinerated
Tigers and a jungle as well
It turned
filthy that the crowd starts drowning
By the sound of my harmonics, casting spell with melodics
So constructive, my words enter the conscious
Pounded
The memories I cannot erase
PRE-CHORUS:
You should Know
You should know that
You should know
Infected by the sound
You should know
You should know that
You
And niggas don't be tripping, don't
Be doin no drive-bys
Cause we don't gangbang, don't wear blue or red
We like that fucking green and paper's what I said
Big
And niggas don't be tripping, don't
Be doin no drive-bys
Cause we don't gangbang, don't wear blue or red
We like that fucking green and paper's what I said
Big
cock straps too
And we blast on fools,fuck you over
We smoke niggas too, like Black Rob do
We straight criminals, fuck an interview
J-Prince will
Can ya love me like my mama love my sister love my baba love my heart love my armor
Can ya love me like Mahatma love his Dharma to be Satya
Can ya
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