Lyrics:
I'm so fly, like XYZ
Threat to the throne, man, I'ma murder this
You are such a poser
You ain't ever heard of this
Shots at you fake boys
Walkin' 'round
fuck with real Detroit niggas like Chedda Boys"
[Royce whispering throughout]
Ask about me
[Verse 5]
I got A.K.s, A.R.s, aye y'all
This nigga been dead
one's gonna stop her
Mama's little girl likes teasing the boys
Yeah, mama's little girl likes to make the big boys
Now she walks by and she catches their
to the future in the flux thing
And I saw everything
Boy bands, and another one, and another one
And another one
And girls there with round hair like Star
to mention any window to throw it out
Lookin like who don't you want and where it come from
Sippin on chickin wing, smackin on stout
Step to his boys
the boys gave me a beer... or a bunch
Air that's so hot
You could fry an eggy
Seatbelts and slides with that certain subtle touch
A beer with a girl
Who's
hum along
Like treasures they twinkle in the sun
Get on board and have some fun
Take what you need to turn you on
(Boys) boys in the girl's room
vibes (yah-yah)
Ring my boys like ""Swing by"" (swing by)
You know, we know how to play right (yeah-yeah)
And nou re ja di swing (swing)
Coolin' in
to the States
In the hood by sticks and drums like this Long and McQuade
Getting punished by my parents, yelling "This a mistake"
In the jail, didn't change me,
a Philadelphia boy
Tell these people how you moved out and
You a New Jersey resident boy
Them OG's on the block
Are like Japanese chefs
Cause soon as they smell
b-b-b-b-b-boy
Ooh hoo b-b-b-b-b-boy
Ooh hoo b-b-b-b-b-boy
My gangsta boy
I don’t care what my girls or mama
Say about you, bad boy, I like the drama
We can ditch
There's no denying
The way you wind that waist girl
You hot like fire
Oya drop it low girl
Its gonna be me and you tonight
Where you wanna fly
I'll take
I see the crystals in the smoke
No na, baby girl don't you choke
Made an album my first year
By God's grace OTM we going clear
I ain't lazy
Do what I
baba, you know how the ting go
See my girl you dey over me
All my money nk3 hami
Leff your boy and come chill with me
If he ask you, tell am say chest la
You said I'm like a dead bee cause I'm not buzzin'
So this album's dedicated to my dead cousin
Rest In Peace homie
Boy I'm blessed
I'm blessed
I would
early,
I hate MCs that get away with swag lines like:
I'm a killer and no one can hurt me
When I die don't bury me, freeze me,
By the way things are goin'
that, I'd rather be loud and I like swearin'"
From the first album even the gals were like, "Tight lyrics, dreamy eyes"
But my f- mouth was nightmareish
the day I came out, I was like, "Merits?
Fuck that, I'd rather be loud and I like swearin'"
From the first album even the gals were like, "Tight lyrics,
Second album of the year, I'm on my trap shit
Make a skinny ho pay me like a fat bitch (Uh-uh)
Fly the Mulsanne like a plane, a boss behind tint
an instrumental album of sitars, pots and pans
You've done enough talking, so I know you ain't fading Sole
Have your boy Rupert Murdock fly you out,
I'll serve you
as the summer's on, I took the winter off in
L.A. 'cause the city's too cold but I'm heating up, soon as I drop the album
We on an island like Friday in Robinson
to my boys
You got me
Youre my best friend and girl
You know Im yours
You got me
Thats why they all mad at me
Cuz girl they know you got me, got me
printer
I got a chopper and a trimmer shootin' like Jimmer
You coming in that water boy, you better be a swimmer
I aint worrying bout ya'll, sittin' in my
don't know what direction it's gonna go in
Or at what speed it's gonna go in
This project was like, all over the place
If you listen to Cruisin' By
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