Lyrics:
tell?
Whole team turning 30 like that album by Adele
Its 90Sitcom like fresh prince or saved by the bell
Them streams don't count if you just playing em
the dominant
Your honor this, cut your mic, I'm in control of all of this
Welcome to the 2nd album where we find ourselves surrounded
By some people venomous
non-talent motherfuckers are stealing my spotlight in a dumb way
This is no game, this ain't JB, this a straight shoot
I knew by the end of this album, I
pumpin' 93 say, "What's up
Church?" when I ride by in
That blacked out Ford GT
They write me stuff in my PO
Tell me 'bout their broken homes
Tell me 'bout
his murder case
I used to jam Run D.M.C
Monie Love, MC Lyte, and Biz Markie
When LL was bad with that gold rope phone
Back when niggas used beepers,
don't touch the crown
By the way, that's Uncle Brown
A gyal dem a run me down, cuh
(I got it, yeah) this is soul baby
The kind of soul that gave
Stella
And along those lines run life and death
You know, so a few years went by, a couple
Albums, success, out of the
Blue sky Dre departs, he leaves us
Death
offended by this, but that's the market y'all missed
That's the target I'll hit
And that's the heart of my pitch
I wanna do this whole thing different
What
of state niggas get
Mad 'cause we rich (Hahaha, richhh)
Pick up a super chicken bac-ca
(Bac-ca, bac-ca)
He said selling 28 and a hundred by mail
For
forget
That boy told you
Get, that, dirt off your shoulder
I probably owe it to y'all
Proud to be locked by the force
Tryin’ to hustle some things that
Go
crazy, baby
Don't forget that boy told you
Get that dirt off your shoulder
I probably owe it to y'all
Probably be locked by the force
Tryin' to hustle
fuck it I love it here I call it my birthplace
Whenever I walk in they makin' the worst face
Surrounded by Fillipinos I think of the worst case
Watch
hit me
Just to pick up the closest thing and knock the living shit out of he
So if you run up, you get done up, I'ma end it
Throw the gun up out
by day, nana
Can’t be replaced, want them to remember my name, yeah
Me and them are not the same
Were never the same
I ain’t on the run
I been called
you hoping you'll come by for a good time
Cuz I'm only trying to make you mine and that's good for some due time
Run it back and then we get ahead
Making new albums, For real
Just, stop getting features
We don't wanna hear them!
We Wanna hear you
It's not their song, It's your song
And to be honest,
the haters I can't find 'em now
And it's seeming like Olympic when you run your mouth
When you run your mouth
By the way, you ain't a gold medalist
Shut up
[Repeated x2]
Run up my mixtape run up my album
Run if you knowing the outcome
Burning it down I get tired of y'all son
Moving a bar i be boss I'm too
(Maybe in this song, you shouldn't start by saying)
Nigga, I said it, I know that you mad
I've emptied the clip over friendlier jabs
You mentioned
Intro
The number one set and sound...live! Ghetto Music. Produced by
KRS One.
Widdy bye bye bye bye bye bye bye
Widdy bye bye bye bye
know I?m selfish at times but bottom line, move around if that ain?t how you get down
Plus my album coming out real soon, I?m in the studio daily tryna
his chain
Then I spill his brain, then I feel his pain
Some of the consequences when you dealin with a plug thug
And I'm backed up by the Queen, we
to her
All I did was turn up more women
She know I'm Jordan and Scottie Pippen (yeah)
Every album got no skippin' (ha)
Shorty bad, ain't have no
left
I run with plenty gangs that's holding things
And rearrange your frame in one breath
So to keep on breathing I suggest you take this beating
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