Lyrics:
to police her
Fatty Boo you better pray nobody sees ya
(This time)
Be careful of the things that you do
Say now you got plenty but the plenty could be
Call up the rest of the crew
I'll see you there
[Big Azz Ko]
Yo, I got the call from Sean he out in Milan
Went to get the package, got there it was
everybody sought
Some would even front and some would even flaunt
Distracted by the silent doomed routine haunt
From a young age I knew the souls light
Season)
Go hard
From slap-and-cry you start to die
So I must go harder
Gotta make these bitches know me
Just like Bobby know water
Better yet, like
y'all practice for the rapture right
Got it from the roc I'm King Arthur but ain't half the knight
I play with her mental give her signals like
music I don't do white music
I do fight music unified in Christ music
Let's get right to it hear the music write to it
From the context of a black kid
Landing in this jam with man and then began dying
We slegna see dread through these retna's
We beg to be swept up by the blessed head inspecta
But all
And I'll turn ya seatbelt signs off
I only smoke the best bud
Jamaica and Bahamas got the best herb, yes sir
I could smoke, toke after toke
Won't give
em feeling Sad yo... Cos really I'm the man eh (Manč)
Jungle booked me an animal take a leave from my ram page!
Me airing you a Given... Shay you no
When its organized to music im a threat
Yet
Its funny how the same homie
Counting on you for ins
Will be the same phony that got it out for you
Yup
a miracle I ever seen it
Time flying by I'm tryna take the scenic
If they told me that I be this man
I wouldn't believe it
No matter what you turning always
busy stackin
To be post wit captions
Now you can see who actin
Look who post and brag man
Cuz those who get to bag man
Got no time to brag and uh
Thats
cream I scoop ya! - My music you wanna get loose ta
Stay pimp, and I'm not a booster! [scratches]
So what'cha got to say? - This mackin' word is bond
you
Well, where I'm from, we like to ride on fours
Do it from the shoulders, or do it from the toes
I do my dirt all by my lonely
C-Murder
you
Well, where I'm from, we like to ride on fours
Do it from the shoulders, or do it from the toes
I do my dirt all by my lonely
C-Murder
Boi:]
I got a buncha shit
I got a buncha shit
Buncha flows, buncha dough, me and a buncha hoes
drop some elbows on to ya, call 'em *Dusty Rhodes*
I done
ever face the music?
(Haha, I been waiting on this feelin' far too long man)
I don't think that I can do it alone
(Think I finally got it back)
As a kid,
fucking cold out
I’ve got nothing to hold onto now
Listen to me at the motherfucking end
I’m walking
With the rhyme and this is nothing, man
Shit, when I go
Young nothing can hold me
Man was I dead wrong
Man so dead wrong
Nailed me under the jail
Weather the storm
Was a hella storm
Got that music for the soul
clubs at
Man i ain't even trying
To hear all that
I'm trying to get my life
Put it on
With this
Music
Get my life
Put it on
With this
Music
Get my life
got me out here spendin' more time with my daughter (he do)
Takin' Kobe from us had the whole world stressed
You coulda took a average player, not one
But I'm Tryna
Leave Wit 2doulble Trouble Sittin On Dub Deuces
So Who's The Star Me Or The Car?
Guess Who Made More Tonight Baby Me Or The Bar?
If Ya
of a stick
Live in the jungle
But never comin' less than thick
You sorry maggot
You need to learn a lesson from me
The funky brother causin' trouble chief R Y
shot a Fyia like Curry
We nuh need no nuh judge, we a jury
I man nuh Green bruh, we no play dirty
We have a high shotta and him name Birdie
We have
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