Lyrics:
just can't wait to be king!
I know that your powers of retention
Are as wet as a warthog's backside
But thick as you are, pay attention
My words are
won't call me a nigga when I get to heaven
You're waitin' for the devil to come from the ground
Clown, take a look around
Just look at the cross that
just cut off my bitch (why?), 'cause you ain't really with me, be honest
She know I'm a motherfuckin' pimp, she don't get steak and shrimp
B done took
and make eight figures
Turned from a goon to a great young nigga
No complaining just doing what it take young nigga
I was raised in a decade of hate young
crack, I'm just what you wanna be
Young, rich and famous bitches can't get enough of me
And they runnin' up on me usually in groups of them
But not just
a nigga when I get to heaven
[Verse Two:]
You're waitin' for the devil to come from the ground
Clown, take a look around
Just look at the cross that
done
When I find that I have to run
Lyrics to music by the King of Swing, The 45 King
The words we bring I write, and sing
Cause I am Latifah, the Queen
ourselves
This heart of gold
Will be mined at the mouth of the beast
And now juxtapose
The lion the lamb
The rose was plucked by fowl with no sight
What
I got you
DJ Threat
Jam Master Jay
Big Pun
B.I.G.
And Free Shyne already
We the Best
I'm from Miami-Dade County, Florida
I go by the name
hoes gotta eat too
Wait a minute nigga who you callin' a hoe? I ain't no hoe
I'm sorry bitch
Sorry bitch, sorry, sorry bitch (I can't be your lover)
understand, we ain't similar
She can't wait 'til I cum, this Perc' killin' her (mwah)
She a freak, she ask me, could I spit on her (mwah)
She just prayin'
them Corn Rows to the back
I ain't really tryin' to be picky
But if you give me somethin', it's got to be the sticky
Doin' by the ounces, lo' lo's
some boots
And set wit my troops
For those who can't follow and got stuck
Kcuf flipped the other way means ahem, hem hem
It's just a curse, I freaked
Pick up my receipt
And I drive to the pickup window
Man, I just can't wait to eat
And now we see this acne ridden
Kid about sixteen
Wearin' a dorky name
be, be, be, be, be
You can smell it when I'm
Walking down the street
(Oh yes we can, oh yes we can)
I can dig rappin', wait!
But a rapper with a ghost
beat it like a cop
Rodney King, baby, said beat it like a cop
But I ain't tryna be violent
But I'll do the time, but her love is timeless
Mrs.
Gold chain
Word hard
Thank god
We bless
Pretty girls
Champagne
Do it toast
We the best
I'm Just dancing to music
Ayee
Count your blessing
Don't be
from it'll be so dark that it'll leave a scar so big
You'll be able to read a label from the motherfuckin'
Sticker that's on it, I'm sick
(Thanks by the way)
I know there's no point to fight
Why can't we all just be friends?
Living day by day
But the next we might forget
(Hmm, that's kind
a gat right now get on the floor I'll wait
Shake that ass a little more my way
But baby I don't dance not that I can't there's a pistol in my pants
hand
And if I front you work
You gotta pay Uncle Sam, you understand?
(King Shit) man, text me
Ray, what's up? Weezy, what's happnin'?
62 Hard, from
He seen my heart was pure
Hard to be vegan when you surrounded by carnivores (yeah)
Lions, tigers, and sharks in they darkest form (I seen 'em in
[Chorus]
California's the state where punk niggas die.
First thought be survival every mornin' when I rise.
So many murders and homicides in
should listen to this track in my Maybach
I'm just tryin' to be a billionaire
Come and suck a dick for a millionaire
Uh, it's just different
I know
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