Lyrics:
he say my name when the music stop
"Young Money Lil Wayne", then the music drop
I make it snow, I make it flurry
I make it all back tomorrow, don't
baby
Now we prayed to Allah with all of our might
Until those big U.S. jets came flyin' in one night
They dropped little bombs all over the holy land
The battle's on, where I roam in composition
A hardcore crowd, waitin' to see, if I break
Like your first time in jail when you got fucked by an inmate
It'll
somebody gonna fade away
Lord, I got a lil' into trouble, down on Mr. Stovall's
Place
Lord, I have got in a little trouble, way down on Mr.
Stovall's
In the middle of the field, throw me a bomb, I'm throwin' that bih like a quarterback
Standin' in the field, holdin' a bomb, throwin' that ho like
might as well play the villain
I'ma get them why cause I cant babysit 'em
I'ma wipe 'em threat them as bad ass children
Is it evil ya better call them
bomb threat
Believe you're the target
I am in your walls and I am laying down the charges
Got what's coming to you like a charger you ain't dodging
Put
of this bitch's mist I say shame, shame, shame.
Enemies attacking me actually I'm in the grain ask Mr. Majesty these
Casualties well they're passin me by
let's get high tonight (my lil' homies)
Lil' homies on the mash
Runnin' from these punk police
'Cause lil' niggas run the streets
I remember, when
"Oh I know I'm drunk now
Ladies and gentleman, I for-
I forgot my favorite man sitting over there
His name is"
Mista Dobalina, Mr. Bob Dobalina
"Oh I know I'm drunk now
Ladies and gentleman, I for-
I forgot my favorite man sitting over there
His name is"
Mista Dobalina, Mr. Bob Dobalina
Bomb ass pussy
Bomb, oh, you got that bomb, know you got it
Bomb, oh, you got some bomb-ass pussy
Bomb, I know you got that bomb, bomb pussy
a shoulder to cry on
From now to infinity, let icons be bygones
I fire bombs, ghostly notes haunt this
I tried threats, but moved on to a promise
I stomp
sum
50 rounds with them 50 rounds
Im gone shake sum
My bodyguard i guard my own
Body i got bomb threat
Im laughing im counting old hunnids
Old as yo
West Coast Ridaz
Comin' right behind ya
Should've never f***ed wit me
I want money hoes sex and weed
I wont rest till my Row Doggs free
Bomb First
We
Went from Mr. 305 (Dade County)
To Mr. Worldwide (all around the word), ayy, ayy
Now we're international, so international (oh, yeah)
filled with dumb checks
Terrorist threat flow, proceed to drop bombs like mr.pump flex
But I don't do it for the money, I do it from the heart
I do it
I ain't stoppin' 'til we chillin' at the top
Ever since I stepped up in this game, I've been a bomb threat
I was in the trenches, tryna see a life
A long time ago, our point of view
Was broadcast by Mr. Bartholomew
And now the world is full of sorrow and pain
And it's time for us to speak up
Weirdo, weirdo, I'm a weirdo
Weirdo, weirdo, I'm a weirdo
Killed da pussy, killed the bitch
Turned into a weirdo
Mr zone 6, half a million dollar
Went from Mr. 305 (Dade County)
To Mr. Worldwide (all around the word), ayy, ayy
Now we're international, so international (oh, yeah)
they say, "hey Mr. Davis, how may I assist you?"
It's Gucci
It's Wizop
I act like I forgot but I was once a mental patient
Sit still in a cell
Yo, it's time to drop some truth bombs on Lil Tristy and Mr. Silly
Rhymes so weak, it's like wrapping up jelly
Lil Tristy, you're a blip on the radar
and weed
I wont rest till my road dawgs free, bomb first!
We, bomb first when we ride
Please, reconsider 'fo you die
We ain't even come to hurt nobody
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