Lyrics:
Money, Geto Boys and Underground Kingz
Wrote the rules on how to ball without a bodyguard
Learn to move or get hit with the John Gotti charge
I pray you
Like Friday after next
Mike Epps
Hit the lotto
The freaks come out
Showtime
The apollo
Don't lose your head
On a horse from a hollow
Men don't steal
Hey
ain't thinkin bout tomorrow
Like Friday after next
Mike Epps
Hit the lotto
The freaks come out
Showtime
The apollo
Don't lose your head
On a horse from
a vital mission
Giving yall hits while I'm doubling all of my digits
Let me preach to the choir, for real
The same ones opposing me ain't stopping my will
the wap, you never taking it back
Yeah yeah
Straight from the top, a nigga ain't got a jack
I make her drip like a tap when I hit it from the back
She
and it's fuck the opps crazy, won't say it again
LaQuarries living, I'm blinded by death, ain't talking 50, we killed many men
We hit they block, ain't
Lubriderm, time took to write this
The war will be fought by the righteous
Who stand criticized by his un Alikeness
Knowledge is the truth and it's
felt the pain
The monkey on her back is now a gorilla
Fiending for a hit knowing one day it's gon' kill her
The clinic didn't help (nope) she just
Might blow up bag today, snatch the tag off and hit the streets
I got her panties soaking every time I bark the SRT
I'm on the road right now, I can't
You drive
Past
The fork
In the road and you go straight
God
Provides
The ground
On the path that you create
You drive
Past
The fork
In the road
Words and Music by : Bob Flick-Dick Foley-Mike
Kirkland/John Paine
This is a story about a hip frog.
And we're gonna pick up on it now and
he's
sure miss them
Out on this lonely road, dreamin' about goin' home
I wanna see them fields of golden rows, ain't nobody really knows
This little town hits
Im'ma hit the road right now
And as I leave right now
Watch me shut shit down
Cuz I'm coming for the crown
I'd rather stand up now
Than be caught
E-V-I-L E and Ice-T are on a jack move
Layin down the dope groove, smokin those who disapprove
Wreckin the deck, you'll regret if you cross punk
a kneeboard
Hello, hello, my ace man, my mellow
John Wayne ain't got nothing on my fringe game, hell no
I could take some Pro Wings, make 'em cool, sell
for this
I swear I get it off the love
Louisiana nigga you can tell
By my mothafuckin' grammar
I swear I got 3 hoes with
Me just like I'm Santa
These
recognized by every eye worldwide
Back to the streets of the do or die hustler
I understand politics consistent, never quit
Super star write hits
Come have
that hot, shaking ale
And say "free young struggle" who's not making bail
He got popped by the feds
Fuck the cops! Take an L
Fuck it take M-N-O-P,
that hot, shaking ale
And say "free young struggle" who's not making bail
He got popped by the feds
Fuck the cops! Take an L
Fuck it take M-N-O-P,
as kale
They used to wanna see me get hit dead by a train
Now they all be catchin' feelings as they hop up on my rail
Shit got dry, so I'm pullin' in
that same pack
Like, "Since you was short, bring every thing back"
Tone like, "Nigga, you tryna play me like a jack"
Lil Tez like, "Play by the rules
the right bill
Spunto wheel
We can drop by it
Call Roger, A player focal
Spun a lucky number
To hit a world news
When we blew it out
You know a mistake
This
honest
To God, I just wanted the high
To pull me from the low
Jack Frost, I've been stuck in this cold
Time I hit that open road in my soul
Set some goals
gone hit the road the long way no detours this time
The Solo King my hustle shredded by the way I grind
And you can't avoid the traffic bruh ain't no way
-8643.jpg/225px-John_Scofield_(cropped)-8643.jpg "John Scofield")
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