Lyrics:
'm feelin' myself
And with the number one single, I'm feelin' my wealth
Yeah, Now what you know about me
Call me Mr. '08, 'cause this year about me
I
opinion holds
I'd say you'll come to nothing
Your talk is cheap
But you're proud of it
Mr. Cold War
Mr. Beat up shoes
Mr. American Spirit
Mr. Jim Morrison
Your legs or your breasts
Mrs. Fried Chicken, you gonna be a nigga death
Created by southern black women to serve massa' guest
You gonna be a nigga
Spacemen and women on this bus
An obese driver I don't trust
We're goin' to watch the shuttle fly away last day
And for some kids behind my seat
There's
the blood
In the wake of glory, I flew back home
I watch videos at night in my uniform
Of those towns and cities being blown apart
By those bombs
a gun, gang affiliate
Told her, "Don't be worried 'bout none, lil' one killin' shit"
I take criminals where I go, but all legitimate
Put so many
'm at the safe, fuck a safe haven
They play with my name and I can't take it (lil' bitch)
Tobey Maguire got bit by a spider, but see, me, it was a goat
If you
Guess who
J to the Lo
F to the A-B
Oh, yeah, oh, yeah, oh, yeah
I'm ain't Mr. Right, I'm Mr. Right Now (oh)
I keep women in thongs comin'
right by his side
For the last ten summers
Smokin' on Obama and we doin' numbers
I just left the atm
My bank acount got commas
You just jumped on stage
of the year
But I've seen the nighttime and now it's too clear
This place made by devils consumes all who fear
I watch as my childhood is getting torn apart
Lucian Grainge from the ghetto, I follow God's orders
And he told me I was rich forever
And he showed me I was rich forever
They call me Mr. Roberts
with another chick from my building
Kick her a** out and have breakfast like a mo' f***a'
I'm with another b**** by super
Yeah me and hate that's
with another chick from my building
Kick her ass out and have breakfast like a mo' fucka'
I'm with another bitch by supper
Yeah me and hate that's
a hyena
Taking a chance wouldn't last if you ask Mr. Martyr
If you're sicker than sickle-cells then follow me in hell I'm possessed by the devil
Brand
liberated by this monster I created
Dr. Frankenstein
[Mr. Short Khop]
We love to bump you Frankenstein
Yo' shit is the best
Take my body and my mind
to a panther
I keep my eyes on those who pass by
They look to pm dawn the quest for the answer
Mercy mercy me till I see
The end of the human race is Grand
[Chorus]
Flame is the game
The game we call gas lighting Abbie
It's a luscious invention for three
One summer by the sea
With the long weekend
"Come inside!"
"I am Jason the Freemason, what you're selling i do not need.
Mr. Patrick, orthodox Catholic, is more likely in your league."
At that
and no looking back for us
We got love show love that's love
Say the all you're all that l need to get by
All I need to get by oh oh oh oh
Yeah
I got
An unlikely bond
— an encounter
The counterparts I’d like to describe
as followed:
A mind, sharpened by hatred,
Mrs. Morrison had told me ‘bout
range, we ain't doin' no drive-by's (yeah)
I still right here wit' hollows, nigga, and I got my Glock out (facts)
She keep tryna watch Netflix, bitch,
motherfuckin' block
Try to catch me if you can, now that I'm a grown man
The mail I got stashed away, people will never know
Mr. Flamboyant
I came in here
(old K)
My lil' brother beat his body, OJ (OJ)
Niggas talkin' 'bout they lit, I'm La Flame (pussy)
That lil' boy a mascot, he ain't gang (pussy)
clock)
I spent a quarter on a watch (quarter on a watch)
I drip my main bitch down in Ross (yeah)
Put a side bitch in Gucci socks
I got my main bitch
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