Lyrics:
I-E-P, I ain't so stupid, as you see
I blame it on my A-D-D, cause I am you and you are me
We all hide pain that's underneath, somehow you still made fun
got it
Fat boy, rich nigga, with a appetite
Count money all night under the candlelight
Spinnin' vinyl, Teddy P, or is it Lionel?
Not a model, but I
shit a masterpiece, No Limit like Master P
Now I am the master, see, that's the way it has to be
My life is a movie, I'm so glad God casted me
I am
ass to a ghost
I'm the shit no T.P
One year three E.P's
Something light
And that's the truth
Working out my feelings while im working in the booth
albums that don't completely suck,
Stop puttin DRM onto audio CDs,
That don't make it any harder to steal your MP3s,
If I want your shit for free, I ain't
tryna stay at a palace, while my pals practice front smiths
I'll make it all better for you
We got the 404, show em what it do
Aye, it’s P-Tree dot mp3
prison
That I ain't went and fuckin visit
3 albums and ain't drop
One name still with it
Told you niggas from day one
"pussy nigga, I ain't friendly"
Real
Afinal já queres uma pic'
A tua b aqui deu pra toda a click
Alcunha dela aqui é ‘sunquick'
Mas à noite rezo p meu blood ver o sun quick
À noite rezo
shoes. And Dre is back from the c-p-t. Droppin' some
shit that's d-o-p-e. So f**k the p-o-l-i-c-e! And any muther f**ker that
disagrees. Stuck
Death Row
Yo, and here comes me left blow
'cuz i'm the E-A-Z-Y-E, and this is the season
to let the Real motherfuckin G's in, ya like a kid ya
found a pup
and quarter pounds down to ozones
(Who you?) I'm Dat Nigga, D-A to the Z (uh-huh)
A motherfuckin' playa, for the D-P to the G
Connectin' lyrics like dot
a shootin' the split Livin' like yellow, throwin' again
I'm bendin' the O's, send him to they front Like, Brooklyn, P's is pissed
I'm tryna see if my E tryna
you crashing the whip
Laughin at hoes, taking fakerss to amateur flicks
While the Ill Bill albums kidnapping your kids
[Chorus � Ill Bill
lost am
Adwuma no ne y3 ho afa , nti )mo anyem
Meho ahi nti , )sore a , wama gim
)sore a , na ))ma fans , na ))ma Vim
Nanso obiaa na ))p3 chance ama
(Rapper T.I.)
(Three Grammy nominations)
(With the second highest debut on the Hip Hop)
(If you look left, there's a monkey next)
(Sentenced
impreziosito l’album con la loro presenza
suonano
Disgui - voce, chitarre, basso e programmazione tastiere
Chuck Sabo - drums
Ivan Lodini - basso fretless in
Cedar Elm
West side trees sprayin' all the fleas
That's from the three and four hundred block P-Funk riders
So niggaz watch yo' ass at that center divider
the beginning of Hell all my friendships fell
I had to focus on myself and make an album when I'm well
I found my best friend after three days lying dead on his
of a magazine ain't even got a album out
Hop at da streets my delete cuh my hits out
Now I'm da one everybody wanna talk about
Hustle hard ball harder dats wat I
com a gente a chance é indiscutível
E não é viável, passares por essas longas gruvas
Quando o teu álbum apenas contem faixas turvas
És bom encara,
sorriso solto, braços abertos, cabelo ao vento e no peito sinto p seu respirar
SOLO 2X
(ESTROFE 3)
Eu vou lhe dizer, apressa o seu amor venha me trás
try to shine I make your heart work proper
And that's comin from the drifter and if ya
Are-you-IN YA L-I-P, you will B-E-G-O-N-E
So let the guests
drink an E-40 I drink a Maxine Water
And take a D-Shot
And this is done by choice, not by force
I didn't wanna burn her
It was either right or left, I
and yo body fill wit them other fluid,
Trappa slash rappa but a full time G,
Smokin purp wit my boys, bout 2 or 3 P's,
I'm a trappa slash rappa but
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