Lyrics:
That was Neon Hours' by Sparky Lightning and The Bolts from their 1982 classic album, Saturday. We are listening to the entire record front to back
a mic in my hand
who decided to rap and fell in love with his fans. And now my flows
are the sickest rated TEN by the bitches, and im getting
ridiculous
fla tête
Album ghanbi3ou f cassette
Ta ra gelt lik khou u hate me
Wana ghanji safi ghir quittez
Ba9i auto ga3ma m'signé
No love baby kanskkiper
3
the cool in you
Or it'll be a sad love song being sung by Toni Braxton
And I'll dissect you like a fraction
All you wannabe top cat MCs, I'll pop you like
At my brother's Janazah
Tears stained sunglasses
A Salat with no bows
Pallbearer carry you to the car now
Chilly day, Mosque on 96 and 3rd
New
feel no more
And now I'm the shit
Go by the name of Lil' Kim, the Queen Bitch
And M.A.F.I.A.'s lieutenant
Instead of playin' Don Dinero (Dinero)
I
[Tash]
(Who we got?)
We got Catash and Kuruption
What the f*** is yo' function?
We got Catash and Kurupt
'Bout to f*** s*** up
I'm sippin'
ain't feelin' ya'll lames, like novacaine
Ain't no way you can (stop the train) or the conductor
Of the track, muthafucka, that's E3, my love for
I sit and wonder why you ever left me
2. I told myself I'd never find a new love
3. You remember how you left me for another
Hey 'Pac, it's yo' boy
Hey man so far I've been listenin' to your album
And I ain't heard nothin' you could kick back and smoke a beadie to
You
clinton (you know)
Black phantom (huh), windows tinted (i love it)
Presidential shit, monica lewinsky
[Verse 1]
Back for the M*tha F*ckn title its your
"how much a three-five(3.5) for"
Shit, I tell him bout forty(40) forty-five(45)
If you can't even get that, nigga you broke
Uh yuh, and if you can't,
stand by you,
And fight for you,
I will live for you,
And die for you,
Agape Love,
Agape 4X love,
Agape 4X love,
I will stand by you,
And fight for you,
I
in the era I played in
Still on the pavement, the hood gon' cheer for the gangsters
A miracle I made it, three albums up and six zeroes later
I'm
Got your broad in that Mulsanne, that Bentley, homie (ha, ha)
Seats whiter than cocaine, that .40 on me (yeah)
Got me and Chi-Chi, bring broads, mane,
Hustle Gang
Remix! F.D.B!
West Side, Bankhead, that's where I'm from
Everything y'all did, it been done
My Tru game and my shoe game
You can't touch
He ain't B.I.G. and I ain't 'Pac we just eatin' off rap
One love
[Chorus]
[Just Blaze]
It ain't over, Ladies and gentleman, I go by the name
the heat from your breath,
Rap niggas beef in they album probably needed the press
And as a man I never found the slightest need to impress
Another man
went from cheddar to cheese from powder to cooked rocks
From the ghetto to the lakes
(to the lakes 3rd ward, Caliope)
Slangin' thangs in the hood
baby
You a little forty-eight baby
Got a little candy in her pocket
She gon' take off like a
You already know (know, know, know, know)
Dirtied up
in love (fall in love)
F storiyatek chabe3 colorado (colorado)
Halla, halla (halla) halla, halla, halla (halla, halla)
Halla, halla (halla) halla,
people to buy
Well how's this for a publicity stunt? This should be fun
Last album now 'cause after this you'll be officially done
Eminem killed by
three hours an forty-four minutes straight to Frisco,
bumpin the Rappin, 4-Tayzee baby,
me an 40 Water in the big body Mercedez.
(*Rappin 4-Tay*)
Rockaway, A.Q. get attitude
N****z gel on the strength talk s*** when they bent
Mad can't pay they rent f*** em part of my french
Misery love the company
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