Lyrics:
of attention
Gift and a curse, the center of attention
[Verse 1:]
See I wouldn't wish success on my worst foe
You see the devil is alive but he work slow
on me
My phone's tapped so I had to send word through my lil' homies
Tell them niggas this the year when they pull the trigger
Shit, this is what you
the kind that explore
MC's, I blow 'em out, metaphor after metaphor
I'm more wetter than your boy bigger
So how you figure you can fuck with this rap
chea
Fuck goin' on out there nigga
Heard a lotta lil niggas talkin' reckless
I drink rose like you niggas drink Heinekens nigga
By the bottles nigga
chea
Fuck goin' on out there nigga
Heard a lotta lil niggas talkin' reckless
I drink rose like you niggas drink Heinekens nigga
By the bottles nigga
I could be the lil' dog in the room
I'ma walk in that bitch my chin up with my chest out
Honestly all these rap niggas hoe music
Don't got no bop
wrote this
Got these Devils petrified, hidin' from my hocus-pocus
And so I learned to earn my currency and over time
Affiliated, clearly click
and let your mind be free
And by the way welcome to the party
Uh uh excuse me Mr. Kid Rock (what's up?) can I do my thing
Uh, can I have a little something
Don't get caught on E and fought on streets
Be a victim of "Grand Theft Auto 3"
(Two by two) Trust no one when you're gettin' them
Put your life in
lean
Between the triple team
Wiped em out like a drought
Damn I'm raps tetracycline
Them lips foretold these apocalypse
Everything had a shot
i'm a rap star
To pay the hood
Took the top off Bat Cave, Bat Car
Batman mask off, Bruce Wayne in the flesh
Mr alfred
House guests Sinbad with the genie
nigga
Evrybody an' there mama duin dis rap thang
I'm thankful dat my lil' brutha ain't in da hood bangin
Just be thankful 4 all ya got
If it's just
you ain't bustin' fire, holmes, I'm tradin' yo' ass like Jerry Jones (well, damn)
Gone on and run along, run by myself, I come alone (go)
Drop my
Come through with the top off and
Show 'em what the top like
They might be seein' by the rap shit
But they ain't 'bout that pot life
I take that fork
Hello? What's happening world?
Yo, this Big Gipp!
I've been called down by Lil Jon
& The Eastside Boyz to
Tell you what's really happening on
These
bars of death, here comes a bad Mother F
Don't say another (shh) don't take another
Mic check one, One, checky two
What's this? The old switcharoo, huh!
mind be free
And by the way, welcome to the party
Uh uh excuse me Mr kid Rock
Can I do my thing?
Can I have a little something
To say right here? (Oh
telekinesis
As a toddler, he walked with two panthers on leashes
Learned early on where the mark of the beast is
By the time he hit puberty, he richer than
-A-Lot mobster, callin all the shots
From a underboss prospective, and y'all gon' respect it
I murder, by numbers nigga, one two three
Darin any motherfucker
I dont rap about hittin licks, I dont rap about about lil bitches
I dont rap about flippin bricks, I dont rap about killin snitches
Fuck these fakes
a hundon
Ooh yeah Gucci python ooh yeah
She play with her tongue
Yeah, I bought that bitch a new charm
Lil nigga pop when I told him come see about me
hell no
It can't be
Not Mrs. Independent, dude
Nah
So, uh
To all the ladies wonderin' why
Drake can't rap like that same old guy
It's 'cause I
Ay Jeezy, wassup my nigga?
Yeah, this ya boy Lil Buddy, what's hatnin, man, I ain't seen ya in a minute
Yeah, man I'm keepin' it hood, my nigga,
it's still Gucci luggage
I love Cape Cod, and watching fly bitches with grey eyes
Wrestle in a tub of KY to get my day by
I like to celebrate, why? -
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