Lyrics:
I was born with an old soul
So when I hear what you bump it sounds so so
I remember Fat Joe with the Fo Fo
Went way harder than you
Hoes spittin' old
daddy's daddy rolled like a stone, denying his lead role
My daddy broke the chain
Far from perfect, close to G.O.D. though
He parented hard like Joe Jackson
He sang Elvis' "Always on my Mind"
In doorways of local shops
Loathed by the planet's "haves"
King to the world's "have nots"
He sang
blunts cigar scent
I'm by myself and niggas run they mouths like auctions
To streets my brother
Fefe's my brother
And we stay on point like a fucking
put an extra lime on my water glass (I'm so sorry)
An hour later here she come by walking past
(I hate to be a pest but my son would love your
this shit is hysterical
By my nephews and nieces I will email Jesus
Tell him forward to Moses and cc Allah
Mr. soul survivor does that make me
the Midas touch
Got gold diggers looking at my fine wrist watch
Even got the restaurant to fine dine this fox
Better call me by my name that's right it's
get them fantasies
Just by passing me in the street uh
Y'all Never catch me- prospect athletes
In my bag g, you know that jansport
Came in the game
the Red Sea parted
Provide the harvest, in drought and shortage
With Jah by my side I've got all advantage
(Here, here I come again)
Gong,
Uh, yeah, and I'm, on my hustle and flow
Golden child
Every beat touched turns to soul every week
Make a new one just to watch it go
Understandable
up
Do work, treat rap like a ripped skirt
Sow it up, rep your hood, nigga, throw it up
You'd been standing by my side for years
Sold out concerts,
or a voice to say what I said (that's what I said)
now what if my soul stretched out for a mile
the shadow of some fool get disguised by some style
while
Tattoos on my body
Being followed by these Hotties That's ya Bitch yea probably
Get it Crackin Get it Poppin
I ain't worried bout nothing
Back
down on the dark side of Route 88
I got a bottle of Rose, so let's try it
We'll pick up Hazy Davy and Killer Joe
And I'll take you all out to where
the waste man's anymore
Brought an Uzi to the venue keep it on the low
I got people that would die for me I hope you know
They gon' play back all my albums
Welcome to Camp Demons
Enjoy your rest
Good night
Welcome to Camp Demons
Where my fears roam
Found another lost soul by a grave stone
Yeah, Camp
too!
I was a troubled soul, consumed by voices advocating special interest groups and vice
'Till Rush rushed to my sweet rescue
Now I'll never ever
Bought your first album, ain't took it out the plastic yet
Move from Philly to L.A. And think he Fresh Prince
Sean Kingston got robbed and now you niggas
Coffee Brown
Get to know me, the man, the person
So by the time I'm on my fifth album
You should understand the first one
It's non-fiction, you deny you
on my soul
You know I ain’t tryna go
And I know how it go
Bitch you better play yo' role
You know I’m out that Nawf
Baby Joe throwin' up them fo's
And I’m
backed by bullies who be peelin' caps
I sack a rapper like linebacker, play my rhyme backwards
You can hear the Devil speak his mind with fine graphics
gonna say that my recent album was shit
Cause I admit it's dog shit
As I almost lost it to make it
I'm not gon' be 'bout it cause I won't be here
bitch house all on the WiFi
Life good and I rap just to get by
Cause it's bad everyday on my side
Some days I hate living like this
One, two, move
Gotta
My albums should hit like a semi truck
How much thought could a dumb fuck chuck
If a dumb fuck stayed stuck
And a thought never fucking struck
Good
.jpg/300px-Jarvis_Cocker_(2012).jpg "Jarvis Cocker")
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