Lyrics:
world, I'm the dope dealer
I love it when she talk crazy
That dick make her walk crazy
That last time was awesome, all the lines
We crossed them
I ain't
to follow God like Bishop
But when they see that you bitcher
Prepare for a ditch of
Dirt, I give you a list of families
That hurt, but oh well, fuck it
That's
the look it's the will
Razor blade tongue still
Run of the mill
Run of the mill
Fire drill
Jack fell but Jill
Then stood on the hill
Her laugh was shrill
I
standing in the light
Well it shortens the range of your vision
So you can't even see your hands
And it stands on one leg and just listens -
Don't talk
Yea this sound like a movie right here
Well fuck it, here go the soundtrack!
Bullets and guns moke! Dipset!
Now
If we was playing pro-ball,
It doesn't stop for him walks on (Grr, ayo)
'Cause he don't want you to know that
You can walk on the water
Well, I'ma tell you right now grr
Ayo,
Yea this sound like a movie right here
Well fuck it, here go the soundtrack!
Bullets and guns moke! Dipset!
Now
If we was playing pro-ball,
and shoutin
and helpin us turn it out
Is everybody sayin play? (PLAY!)
Say play! (PLAY!) Well OK!
Alright, woo!
Everybody get up!
Oooooeee, yeah!
Summer here is over in a million different ways
You look like a dream sometimes but I don't dream these days
Yesterday the snow fell by four
your gun solar mill competition got to chill ill
Carolina you all run down
Shaggy's not around do you know how you sound
Coming over here asking for
honey...
Robby, darling...
Eight o'clock on Monday Bobby fella...
Bobby baby...
Bobby, come on over for dinner!
We'll be so glad to see you!
grips all on my ass
Private show with the music blasting
He like to call me Peaches when we get this nasty
Red wine drip, we'll talk that trash
a wristband
All these niggas shaky, might as well dance
I don't trust him, we gon' dust him, that's on Taliban
Big foreign truck, it's lift up like
it hell for a hustler
This is how we ride
Not knowing if we'll live or die
Catch me rolling with my motherfucking guns on the side
In case
though he'd often say in his homely way
that he'd sooner live in Hell.
On a Christmas day we were mushing our way
over the Dawson trail.
Talk of your
many, but we ridin' tonight
Well, it's that pimp talk that ain't that pimp walk
It's big pimpin' over here, player, that just started
See, we fresh
so much we probably numb to it by now
After all, it's the American way right?
Home of the brave and free (It's America)
Free just to murder me
mine till I ride the hearse
It's going down, Dogghouse gangsta style
And fuck death row, we'll take 'em out
We got the whole rap game bangin' now
looks sad and lonely
Tell me she's been missing me like crazy
Yeah, just look me in the eye and lie
Was she over by the jukebox?
Playing songs we
gon’ win over and over and
Over and then you wake up
You still can’t believe it! You know
Why? Because you was lied
To by Google you was lied
To by Mark
you've just seen the ghost of Jesus walking by
I never sleep
When trouble steals thoughts
From my restless mind for free, it could be (ohh)
much we probably numb to it by now
After all, it's the American way right?
Home of the brave and free (It's America)
Free just to murder me (land
And never catch on fire
How come? You silly motherfucker, I'm fire
Smack the Devil over the cheek
Gave him a third-degree burn
Iced it down the same week
So lonesome I could die
Well, we were on the lookout for adventure and fun
Then we told each other it was over and done
But here I go doing
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