Lyrics:
you love me all the time
Maybe I'm afraid of the... well, we don't know that song
But, anyway, right, we got mr. Brian Wheat...
Thank you, that's just
we all dying for love but living in fear doc
Appear not
As it may seem
This happy surface got you fooled thinking it may be
112 in my life, now thats
in New Orleans
Did it for soulja slim brought out b.g.
Its all love bun, I'm forgiving you pimp c
You know how the pimp be
That nigga go'n speak
like a full feast
Pussy niggas count me out, man I love to in-convene
Teddy P and Mr. Hood, you can call it history
We the best and fuck 'em all, we
For real (I can take you all around the world)
Picture me thuggin', picture me lovin' you
Like Bobby love Whitney now picture me fuckin'
Pullin'
burn rubber right after I burn a fuck nigga, fuck all y'all fuck niggas
I got a black book that I ain't got no names in, instead I keep the pictures
for
and I'll be in that moment
but not by myself
I'll have help
you will all be with me
pulling me along
And I'll be alright, momma
cause at least I've
me)
Hangin' on to the end
(That's me)
Starting all over again
(That's love)
Oh that's the way it goes
There's a woman in the chapel in the back
*Taken from the album "The Vegetarians of Love"
*Written by Bob Geldof
Nobody gonna take my head
I gonna beat my..., yeah, yeah
Ooh, I'm in heaven again
I got everything
Like an open road
All my friends and everything
something that we built on
I look around and there ain't no love now
Scream, "Fuck them all", I'm on crud now
Wanna call me bro like we're blood now
Want
Connor is alive tonight, bro! Rocky
Alive tonight, bro! Aye, y’all
Love my show when I say these names
Y’all better scream for me i
Don’t give a fuck if
I've been a boss
Gettin' bricks off in them rental cars
I did it all but I'm spillin' sauce
Can't stop blood like menopause
The sauce is hot,
Ratin latent, and perpetratin
My album's love mics, tough like dirt bikes
You get frantic, New York City, run and panic
California, I switch
The way they used it all up and didn't pay the man
And after 2 platnum albums, you call me weak
Cause I don't sell records in the East
Now what's funky,
used it all up and didn't pay the man
And after 2 platnum albums, you call me weak
Cause I don't sell records in the East
Now what's funky, I say
like I love LA
They be activated
Can't tell proof on how my mouth was runnin'
Then they heard the solo album's comin'
"Duck Seazon 3" locked
better than y'all
And by the way, rest in peace 'Pac and Biggie Smalls, yeah
This the real hip hop
(Ay, you know we miss you 'Pac and Biggie)
This
a day that I still been sober
These the things that I'm tripping over (Y'all motherfuckers made 3 albums)
Still talking about the same shit
The one
some dinner I'm
working hard on the winner
so this album is a labor of love
You say as long as I'm staying out of the streets and
just spending money
I met you in a club in Atlanta, Georgia
Said me and my homeboy were coming out with an album
You looked at me like, "Yeah, nigga right"
But you
Hennessy, hangin' with the clowns
And all we used to do is drink brew
Screw and common knew
We had bitches by the dozens
We fuckin' cousins
You can throw your
love you)
All, baby girl, I'd trade it all
Even give up my good green (harmony)
All, and I'd give the watch and pinky ring (is you by my side)
All
prayer.'
Did y'all hear that? That's what my grandmother'll say
She'll say, 'Great God almighty, here come my boy! He musta got here by prayer.'"
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