Lyrics:
Good Morning, boys and girls
I'm your substitute teacher
My name is Mr. Buckworth
The topic for today is
What you would like to be when you grow
you niggas I pop put a shell in you niggas
My nice watch'll Helen Keller you niggas
I got whores in the cannon camcorder bendin' over
Blowin' game by
to the fuckin' Birdman like a lug
And dear Mr. Ronald Williams
To you I shall forever give thanks like a pilgrim
Cash Money million-heir to the throne
Goin'
Baptized
Send U Closer To Ya Maker
U Heard Me Get Baptized
And I Put That On My Lil One
U Try Me It's Nap Time
U Ain't Bout Gettin This Money
Adios Say
(Excuse me, sonny, do you know where I can find some booty?)
(Why your face so ugly?)
Hold up, bitch (hey)
Bad as hell and she thick (hold up)
She the one
(You one of one)
Yeah, look (Mr. Thanksgiving)
I gave my bitch a lil' AmEx and told her to lay back and bought her a Patek too
I'm not
Because it's hard to find your love, I found it, though
Because you better not stay, you better not stay
Because it's hard to find your love, I
Let you know something about me
I'm a Southern boy! Know
What I'm talking about?
I remember all the days stuck in December
Caught in the rain, all
still keep dis 1 n if you got love fo yo watch yo nigga you can let dem slip I'm tellin you dis you go miss him
I luv ol girl but been a minute sense I
list, go on with all that shit
You can bring whoever you want, good news is lil baby won't be there"
"Yo"
"Ah, I told you, we got you"
"Alright"
appreciate you, ma, I can tell by the way he hold you
He don't love you like I can love you, or squeeze you like I squeeze
I'll make your neck pop back
range, we ain't doin' no drive-by's (yeah)
I still right here wit' hollows, nigga, and I got my Glock out (facts)
She keep tryna watch Netflix, bitch,
school hip-hop a beat and a rhyme
Some chapters and some verses, you seek and you find
Look no further here I go, Big Will, Johnny Inferno
Flame by
roller-coasting, on, on, on
What's up love? It's been a while
You been good? I've been around
Remember dinner dates I was late? Mr. Chows
Truant like
them niggas in the hood is the reason we stressin
I miss that gangsta love and that lil' affection
Them butter soft lips when you kissin my chest
that's yo daddy gun
This lil uzi finna pack a punch
Yo yes men gave you a big head bitch you Mr. Mackey
You not pistol packin
Stick to rapping
Matter fact
opinion holds
I'd say you'll come to nothing
Your talk is cheap
But you're proud of it
Mr. Cold War
Mr. Beat up shoes
Mr. American Spirit
Mr. Jim Morrison
watch her drop her pants
I'm Mr. swag so clean, yeah watch me hit my dance
These niggas just talking that rah rah, they ain't making no sense
These niggas
I wanna do is sit back and watch you move
And I'll proceed to throw this cash (Flocka, Waka Flocka, Waka Flocka)
All that ass in yo' jeans
Can
a gun, gang affiliate
Told her, "Don't be worried 'bout none, lil' one killin' shit"
I take criminals where I go, but all legitimate
Put so many
yeah)
Breeze by you so fast, got you sneezing, hachoo
They got the shivers, man, I got the fever
I gotta bring the hood back after Katrina
Weezy F
liberated by this monster I created
Dr. Frankenstein
[Mr. Short Khop]
We love to bump you Frankenstein
Yo' shit is the best
Take my body and my mind
inside the living room
While kids watch 13, I'm in the back scopin zoom
Sesame Street, you play that beat, I'ma step to Pete
with nuclear
County
Welcome to, welcome to Dade County
Here's a deposition, watch what you speak
Who’s the definition of Miami? Me
I move cultures
Don’t believe me –
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