Lyrics:
until my fingers hurt
I hit my target, uh, I up the margin
What they on? You know how Nas do, don't get me started
Chic, sleek, and snazzy from a small
like this...
We don't have any arrangement of it, they're just kinda faking it, and we'll just try it. If it works, we'll stick it on the album, if not,
I didn't know then but now I know what he meant
And if you're wondering why your letters never get a reply,
It's just when you tell me that you love
talkin bout
This and that sayin' it
Ain't a hit can I get
Back what I started with
Want my, want my old shit, buy my, buy my old albums
Want my old
runnin' this
Well taker, earth shaker, 3 point gunnin' this
Get out the lane, I'm comin' through
And if you don't want to move then I'm comin' right
the neighbours don't mind us gettin' loud
Homies to the left, all the ladies to the right
We came to get down, we gon' do that now
My light up shoes on, my
to be music that did it
But then again times have changed man, who are we kiddin'?
I'm managed by my friends that I grew up with
I'd rather give that
thunder
Now I feel strange when I walk by his mother
It's fucked up that's how the ball bounce
The cookie crumbles
That's what the guns do dead you
and then fart it
And y'all think I'm gon' stop? Blow it out ya ass!
In one year I got rich, now life's moving so fast
But being broke with no food is just
the ten by four, controllin' the house
We live in hard knocks, we don't take over we borrow blocks
Burn 'em down and you can have it back daddy, I'd
and don't give a fuck what it's cost-ing
Yo, yo, pressure bust pipes, it's time to apply it now
Pick out a quiet town and tie it down
Make niggas lock it
dangerous (yeah)
I'ma hit you, 4 AM, see if you make it (yeah)
Don't stop trappin', boy
Got 'bout twelve racks this mornin'
Got 'bout twelve racks
[sinister laughter]
Oh y'all niggas killer now, oh word?
Catch you comin out your fuckin crib nigga
Yeah, catch a fuckin bullet nigga
[Prodigy]
(can it be that it was all so simple then?)
(Dedicated to niggas who do drive-bys)
Dedicated to the Lexus and the Ac's (can it be that it was all so
with the fuckin' stick, bitch
And I ain't scared to hit a lick
I see yo' fuckin' bitch, and that hoe lookin' kinda thick
And by the end of the night,
enough
Drive-by's, blood-spattered on my shoe, I'm not hood enough
But why cry?
I Waka Flocka Flame, hit your block up
Thug life, it's in my veins, go
Bape
Then jump out the face
Then jump out the face
Money gon' stack and this money gon' fall
Came from the hood now we jump out of states
Peep all
then rush 'em
Figure you'll get jumped, hell that's nothing
They don't wanna stop there now they bussin'
Now you gushin', ambulance rushin'
You
payday
All of a sudden Dr. Dre is the G Thang
But on his old album cover he was a she-thang
So nigga please, nigga please, don't step to deez
Getting drunk with these bitches and when they leave, they get followed
Fall asleep with that bitch and really don't know much about her
Then she let us
(Ooh)
(Ooh)
Breaker, breaker, 911
Somebody come get this bitch
Thinkin' you a star on the rise, you got time to reply
Don't lie, you can hit
you have right now?
WEST: Well, influence isn't my definition of
Success it's a
By-product of my creativity i just
Want to create more i would be
Fine
my nigga, let me ask this question
When shit hit the fan, is you still a fan?
When shit hit the fan (one two, one two)
Uh when shit hit the fan,
starts to happen
I Believe
"One of my favourite songs on
The album very simple
A nice sort of jazz swing
To it now, I don't wanna harp on
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