Lyrics:
This shit ain't nothing new
Dog Shit Militia
Up some pape' or we won't fuck with you
Five thousand on the Cartiers
I got the buffest view
Fuck around
with my nigga's
Guns like hands they get to clappin
Damn that shit be magic hold on'
What then happened?
Niggas know they softer than some mother fucking
did that
Got some pop star bodies, been hit that (yeah)
Believe me, my belt got notches
Safe full of diamonds, a couple nice watches
Made some
They say imitations the sincerest form of flattery, that's flattering
But the way y'all follow me, I'm flabbergasted by your fallacy
Fuckin fake
arrangement
I'll have to call for reinforcement
Then they'll have your head on the pavement
You'll be screaming in amazement
You're all demons, you're all
And the space invaders
If she's a sweet ripe fruit
I'll taste her
If she'sa wild bob cat lynx
I'll tame'r
Broken down by her ex
But I'll embrace'r
Now she havin
a clit
I Robb you and make you squirt
This is orgasm from a thief
some one will murder me I’m like yah ? Who? (Yahoo) I’m really hungry bring the G
made that trek
To San Bernardino, by Rialto way
So we could see Shari Lynn and Donnie Ray
Aunt Francine and Uncle Bob always cooked
Some food in
If you got top grade, then I might just smoke some
If you see me on the mic, I’m landing, just know where I come from
Any tempo you give me, I go
a warning
Just let me know
And then death went on his way
Way after while by and by
Father Time
Began to move in
And destroy what mother nature had created
Sparrows sit. A grOSbeak
betrays itself, by that
peculiar squeak--ary EFFECT
of SLIGHTest tinkling
measures. Soundness
pleasing ... We hear!
Does
pricy the bobs was dirt cheap
I put Izzy on the map I know thats a bold statement
But quick let me give you an explanatiion
When I was 14 I ended up in
up the recipe, stir up a conflict
Wait for the pan to simmer then begin
I mash a profit state of mind and I follow by Gandhi
If you are not original
bossin' it don't matter what it's costing
Tossing deuces out the roof, but that coupe
While I ride by, players chucking deuces back
Bobs holl'in out "hi"
Words and music by Bob Hartman
Based on Proverbs 3:6, 1 Peter 5:8, Matthew 16:24
Smell the burning powder?
There's danger in the air
A voice from
Call them foes
Stealing flows
That they got from us
What
We coming through your city with lots of lust
Get the dough get ya hoes then we knock them
A spade a spade, some other hoes
But I live in the shade
Palm trees, fronto, Bob Marley
I'm the dutch master, I'll box you
Boy like Cassius
Put 'em in
I'ma have new songs by then
I'ma make this song times ten
I'm gonna
I'm gonna
I'm gonna make some music the people will like
When I'm about to lose it I
a week
Just talent, I ain't got to tweak
You would think it took some months, cuz I stunt
Task is always finished by the time I smoke the blunt
Move
the glass house
Smoking that San Fernando some can't
Handle and pass out (I think he's dead)
We ride crowds, while high above the clouds
You buy it by
remain puzzled
Attacked by the weight of the bass
In yo' chest
Eightball MJG MC Ren
Nevertheless
'Cause we's the most
My real ass lizards
you ain't with it, without a doubt
By some (brothers) from (Brooklyn) you'll (get) stomped (out)
(That's right)
It's time to get stupid and cold
song
When they pass by I bob my head along
I can't [?] but don't mind the aroma
If the deli out of [?] then I settle for corona
And I claim my spot
happy like Bob Marley
I took seven months off from writing
So if I'm sounding rusty then trust me I'm feeling frightened
Dip my toes in the water I'm
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