Lyrics:
Bill-me Clinton (yeah)
Trillville (right) I see you sir
'Bout to crank this motherfucker up right (yeah)
Tellin y'all 'bout these muh'fuckin
Tell 'em n**** talk s*** now
They think you know they gonna go baw
I ain't scared of the law
Now bout to go to war
What it is n**** where you lose ya
'bout tomorrow, I ain't thinking 'bout days gone by
I'm just thinking 'bout, getting to wherever you are tonight
'Cause when I get lonely
You don't
shameless
She did it with a chair
Sometimes you're wrong
By some things you have done
You see fate is too strong
Nothing's won
No use for a fight
gassed in my absence
Thatchwell, Northampton
You can tell by the country twang in my accent
Nah I ain't gotta say shit
I just work in silence talk with
to the theater set to ill
Buggin! Cold havin a ball
and somethin bout Elm Street was the movie we saw
The way it started was decent, ya know nothing real fancy
you know
And if you think you know, then I don't think you know
Niggas, walk around frontin' (frontin') talkin' 'bout jewels (jewels)
How much you
These niggas don't beez in the trap
They like bees in this track
Just smoked out
I ain't talking 'bout what you toke out
Get choked out fo'rilly
that bitch, and it ain't no asking why they all on my tip
'Cause I get them Benjamins and Jacksons and they all in my grip
Tell me who you know could
Shaheed a propmaster, Q-Tip a propmaster
The Jungle Brothers a propmaster, BDP a propmaster
45 King a propmaster
I won't tell you nothing bout
and stacks taller than Shaq but how good is your pack
You need to get up and get off your ass and get you a sack
Ain't talking 'bout money ain't tryna hear
playin' we comin' in your direction
Let you know that we ain't flexing
You quickly gon' get ejected
Niggas want to kill me cause a nigga coming up
Want
the flow matter fact
Hold up when I roll up
Got them haters like you know what
He ain't stunting he just fronting
I'm like man that ain't 'bout nothing
Got
the neck of the freaking exorcist
Bitch, I said that this mask ain't for hockey
Hate Versace, Versace, I got Münchhausen by proxy
I'm making you sick, don't
straight hatin no you cannot be bill dunn, cause i am the one who eats tuna by the casing, hittin you off wit another sick rhyme to your ears i'm facing
My
nothing , getting played by the niggas getting head, for the
Change,
My lead wanta spray and your dead with decay, they ain't ready for the raidpay heavy
And you don't stop (right)
You got Original Flavour (right)
We bout to blow it up (right)
I got a couple of friends with me
Many styles, many styles
Talkin' big money, bitch, uh
That little shit you talkin' 'bout
That's lunch money
We don't even smoke that
And this shit gon' be like this for
in my mama yard, sittin' on E's
I'm bout this fee, I'm bout this fee
Just know what's free
You were born with a silver spoon in your mouth so don't
ain't got nothing on Willona
Don't make me bring Thelma in it
Bring Halle, bring Penélope and Salma in it
Back to my Beyoncés
You deserve three stacks
your life, like it was nothing
You ruined mine, but you seem to be doing fine
Well, I've never recovered but tonight betcha that whatcha
'Bout to go
to find my way out
Maneuver through the rain
Till I see the sun rays out
This life ain't nun to play bout
You only get one
So while you here don't waste
to make you fools uncomfortable
So don't worry about the fish that's bout to splash on you
That's undiscussable
Quit frontin' boo
You ain't got shit on me
It went down when I caught 'em
We been talkin' to each other at the
House while standin' by the lake
You say that you love me
Ain't respond 'cause I
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