Lyrics:
Juggalos, come out to play...
Guess who's coming to your big town?
Jugglin jesters, kick-it clown
Circus sound, painted frown
Carnival of carnage
of CHS, big homie just like Rick Ross
Little ass nigga, hella jewelry, I'm a big boss
Ridin' round the city, A-Town, we gon' slide like it's a playground
I
up Logic, big love out here from Jonathan
U.S. Navy out here in Japan. Much love for my boy Oscar. Keep us going everyday
Yo Logic, I'm Shane E.
was me, my big homie Eddie
Up late making tapes, putting them out on the streets
I used to rap scratch even try to sing
Now I'm the little cat
was me, my big homie Eddie
Up late making tapes, putting them out on the streets
I used to rap scratch even try to sing
Now I'm the little cat
You your daddy's son, yo, first I hear the beat
I-I get- trap-a-holics mixtape
I'm a real big baller cause I-
Like a light show making big money
I’m a big man coming out of big man sides
Big man hopping out of big man rides
I’m a big man but I ain’t 35
Out here tryna live this life
Trust me Imma
I might have to pour myself
Another little moonshine...
Here we go:
It was a sweet and frosty May,
In the town of Thunder Bay,
When Dale
This the shit that happen when we go out on the town
This the shit that happen when we go out on the town
Bottles get to popping and them bitches
And hide, but he got knocked by the homicide
And this happens everyday around my way
So I pray that I can live another day
Wassup, Wu Tang Clan in here
bang
Big bang, bi-big bang
It's gettin' bigger by the second
Check it
OK, I'm here to rock the tugboat and bare the others farewell
I shook
get back my dopamine
And I'm sorry for the ones I may upset
You already know I'm not here to make friends
Little bit of change make me wanna care less
in the Windy City and forgot about a sweater?
Chicago Theater, big bright letters
Garrett's Popcorn make you feel a little bit better
Pitter patter
fuck by your system, that's evident
Puts bullets in a brother at a club back to ignorent
Special shouts to big boomer, personal autograph
And shouts
was blind
I hit the L, then we yell out
"It wasn't my time!"
I loaded up shells, one by one
You smelled blunt from my room door
Little Nasir was at war
[???]
Whussup Murs
[Murs]
Ah nothing man you know just doing a little underground shit
whatever you know selling these tapes broke ass fuck
[???]
you wake, I'll be by your side with breakfast in bed
Big heart na I carry for my chest But if nor you show me love
I go use wetin dey my head
I know my
Okay, New York, New York
Skepta, Jme (Boy Better Know)
This is grime scene
Hold tight my mum still, big up mum
Yeah, listen
I want a 100% not fifty
count cash for a livin` (beotch, BEOTCH!)
[Chorus]
Now, there was a cool little old fuck
Smoked a little broccelius then we stopped by the burrito
home by two,
Your mama don't know what I've got in store for you
But baby that's alright we're looking as cool as can be
We found a little place that
Ima Big deal big deal
Counted me out still here
Never fold never switch gears
Ima Big deal talking big deal
Big deal big deal
Counted me out
by tonight
Just a little push, and you'll be smilin'
So you play your albums, and you smoke your pot
And you meet your girlfriend in the parking
my name, when I come through here
When I was Sixteen, I want'd to be a mack
I went to Fremont High with Lil' D and Black
Young ballers in the town
Young ballers in the town livin' real phat
Never had the sack but I smoked a little crack
Crushed up in the weed, we call em bass rock Caddies
Goin'
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