Lyrics:
Henry: Just what?
Just, ya know, you're funny
You mean, let me understand this, 'cause
Ya know maybe
It's me, I'm a little fucked up maybe, but
I'm funny
Bread Gang got the shit by the loaf (Boyz)
Nothin' but real niggas, couple hittas and dope boys in this loop (them Loafs)
Pull up, SF90 coupe, I'm
the door, get your access denied
I'm not an asshole I just don't give a fuck a lot
The only time I do is when a bitch is screaming, "Tyler, stop"
The big
and fraiser bizzle that's fo shizzle all da other perpatraders better be packin they pistols 'cause i got pencils for pussies packin some big utinles off
a coal mine
Thoughts deeper than a gold mine
So I'm out here slangin' on this blade
Hopin' that I don't get cut by these police
Makin' raids on those
find a back block
Cop a hoopty, go see Louie for a stash spot
I'm posted up until they come and get this last rock
I toast it up wit' my niggas
me up, don't need Folgers
I had a pack in my shoulder
You gotta picture me rollin'
You gotta picture me rollin'
Pacific ice, I'm an ocean (ocean)
dangerous when you took it
Whattup it's the big boss Dogg
Snoop D-O-double-G, Eastside L.B.C.
And I'm bobbin to the beat of my O.G. homeboy Ice Cube
While I'm rhyming standing beside a big old white bear
Neither one of us fight fair,
You are literally looking at Woody and Wesley in a movie
With a white
too tangled up,
Big town we gon win it ain't no stopping us
Shinning star when you picture me I'm blowing up
We couldn't do it by ourselves we have Big
world by
Myself and butt naked)
Nigga it's time for the re-up
Since everybody wanna be us, then G up
Blaze the motherfuckin' weed up
Everywhere we go
snack
I'm Santa Claus down to Panama beach drunk in my underalls
Playing underwear volleyball with ya bra
I ain't bothered by your triple D's, not at all
Bitch I'm Remy, everything da-do
Hotel costs, ho
Yeah dinner by sol
And if you ain't know me, I need a real nigga
Get ya ghost with the tommy, no
white rocks inside
So I took a little sample to my crazy brother Joe
He sniffed it up and kicked his heels, said, "Horton, that's some blow!"
still we got enough sense to never bust 'em too fast
And now I'm runnin a roll call, startin with D
Big Doc and Yon, K-Cloud and E
Young (?) Rich-O's,
grindin and I'm stackin up that paper
I'm a bread breaker baby cake chaser money maker
My mind up on them dollas you neglectin' to pay
Any means by every
they Turner-All by all types of rings and j clothes
I went and got some Ernie Ball strings and a rig for shows
Wig-wearin' hoes love my long solos
cant ever lose b
Now I'm on 20th floor
In a hot jacuzzi!
What!
Big exhibitions
Things are different
Recognition
Travellin britain
Packin my suitcase
Point court St. Bernard bitch throwin' down
Then I'm mosy on down cross the kanel
Put up the mic 'cause I got a fuckin' story ta tell
Teresa
Yous
Cuz they don't bother me (ha stop)
Nigga I'm always strapped I
Sleepwalk with the hammer
I bump into you wake up then blam ya
Yo Whoo Kid these niggas
enough
Of chasin' up the thrill Now, now I'm packin', makin' deals
Tighter then em fridge seals From the zeal name brings
Sarj a big deal
Roll it up, Turner
I’m high
Blurry visions all sideways
Alright
Drugs too much had last night on replay
I been feeling odd lately
Still been thinking
a friend to me
Fat Joe, he call me literally, put me on a track instantly
Caribbean connection put me all the way up
What goes up must go down, so Thugga
front of Big Lou's, y'all chill!
We got Big JuJu, my man Joe Black main
Slick Rick is on the block
We gon' get ill for y'all one time
Money earnin
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