Lyrics:
can't sleep, rollin' round feeling geeked
Bitch it's Mister Freddy Kruger make you die in your dreams
Bitch imma killer, I'm realer, I'm a drug dealer,
to issue the pain
And distribute some cocaine
Can you fuck man, nah nah
I'm known for loosen' brains
Bitch you think that I'm playin'
Go to war by myself,
don't fail, slip on the jeans and a tee
Check I guess it's time to do work
Make my class at one o'clock, grab the white smock
Pour the contents from
I'm writing her and Mister Santa Claus;
Hoping he could maybe make some calls,
'Cause she's out of this world, bring her back to me,
'Cause it's
Please understand if I ramble mister
I’m amped that you sampled this
I’d tear up the planet
To get my hands on the manuscripts
Didn’t have any
you want
But this 9 milli ain't just for show
And you can't account
For how far the next mans willing to go
So I stay up on my grind
I got this money
Started off on the Island
AK Shaolin
Where we wild about
Them Kung Fu flicks
I looked up to my brother
The man on the block
He sold that rock so you
of the bus,
She told me she could make it to my house by twelve,
So we could get it on, just amongst ourselves,
She came to, I had a blunt to blow,
After that,
universe
So nobody could ever stop you or make you reverse
Mister Babylon, have we met before ? This a we intro
If you don't let us in thru the door we
a gang of street masons (uh)
Scribe check make connects
True pyramid architects (yeah)
Replace the last name with the X (X)
The man's got a God complex
the
Skin from my grin
Up all the stripes that I'm getting
Tiger my twin
Catch 'em by the toe and tie a
Tag around like you sizin' up flips
Tighten up, boy,
on and keep your chambers revolved
Man get the fuck on and get your weight up
Man get the fuck on or you get laid up
Sippin BNB out the sceptre
It's not
Build a better prototype, you lookin' like a mop
And I'm lookin' for a floor to wipe
I heard your album man if thats what you call it
Another gangster
take it
Can't blame you
I'm your favourite
Squeeze your throat
And make you say it (say you love me)
Hit my phone
They try to link up (yeah)
I ain't
dem dey like my thing
Dem dey call me dem dey call me mister romantic
I don't text baby FaceTime me
Make we yarn make we catch cruise till the morning
I
the Crackerjack store
still at will
for field up the skill for the jill by the Jack
misguided mojo swing low string
sing along as I bring along with the song
Who's getting fucked tonight
Grab them by the hand and if all goes right
You can thank me later sol the satyr
Mister robot if my cup not killed
your aptitude before you step in the cypher so you don’t make tha
Mistake of mistaking these misters for miscreants
or these missives for misyarns
I’m
slip (yeah)
'Cause mad nigga's throats gettin' slit
By the mister wit the heat ta burn ya til ya blister
You punk bitch, when the funk hit, the tongue
to listen too
When I hit that pen and paper I can make a visual
When I hit those little bars I thought that I was mister cool
That was way before my dab
lookin' got her number seen what's up wit her
Yeah, to make a long story short dawg
Couple days I'm sleepin, beatin the inner walls
Fell in love with it
work
Blinded by the fact they got Battle Cat up in there being big bro
Ignoring the fact they wouldn't let take my shit home
I hate that my Career keeps
it's tucked make it release
She buss it open and I just couldn't believe
That pussy squeaky clean
Like she sprayed some mister min
She gobble it up like
want to, catch ya slippin', you'sea goner
And respect the street signs next time you're bankin' corners
Huh, do what I say once, don't make me say it
_1958.jpg "Burl Ives")
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