Lyrics:
judge, it's our life
Keep somebody that I love close by
Cause' they want me to die with my closed eyes
We gon' put him in the trunk if he OT
He tried
makes me jump
Got black to asian, and caucasian sayin'
That's the joint, that's the jam'
Let your body collide to the rhythm provided by the
Black
know Jay would never put your album out without none
And dog, you know how come
Labels are archaic, formulaic with their outcomes
They don't know,
Well, there was this movie I seen one time
About a man riding 'cross the desert and it starred Gregory Peck
He was shot down by a hungry kid trying
normal off of drugs
I just don't get it
And then I saw John Cale
he's been looking really great
He's been coming by the office to exercise with me
normal off of drugs
I just don't get it
And then I saw John Cale
he's been looking really great
He's been coming by the office to exercise with me
fans like crack fiends
Until we re-up, and put more Infamous up on the rap scene
Mix the coke rhymes in greases like baking soda
Albums of G-packs
Adidas and gangster hats
A ?? ?? ??, yo here we go
I'm tired of brothers tryin to front like they don't hear me though
Knowin' if it wasn't for me, they
sho
Califoolya, San Quinn reppin' the Moe
Yeah I run up in a party mane and rep my district (and rep my district)
And run up on yo boy like "Nigga
somethin', huh?
How come they never cross over to us, huh?
I never seen five niggas on Elvis Presley's album cover
a truckers dream
It’s hard I swear
It’s just my Cross to besr
Make my bed
By the railroad track
I trust in the lord
But I don’t turn my back
I’ll help any
mind
There ain't no rose of San Antone
And I can make it on my own
These can't be tears in my eyes
'Cause cowboys don't cry
Why's that old radio
Busters want to hoop with me
Want to run our ways, doin R&B
I'll, creep creep, blink blink
Cross your ass over, take it from me
Fee fie and, foe
inside
But that's okay cause I don't cross your mind
And I wished you stayed upon that other side because
Life goes fast it could pass you by
And I swear
Give me the cue
Skip the introduction
Proceed the lip function
The junction get rushed by some grimy people busting weed
Splatter your melons like
what pocket I had left, my handkerchief
I'm guilty by affiliation, in many ways gangsta
But let me explain something, a paradox if you may
I threw all my
Parody of Mama DOn't Get Dressed Up For Nothing by Brooks & Dunn (Kix Brooks/Don Cook/Ronnie Dunn, Sony/ATV Tunes L.L.C. dba Cross Keys
Don't be lethargic pass me the auxiliary
Going to the top, not wearing
My tracksuit top wearing
Suede shoes with lv socks
On my chain there's a cross
Don't be lethargic pass me the auxiliary
Going to the top, not wearing
My tracksuit top wearing
Suede shoes with lv socks
On my chain there's a cross
the era of the 45 with a penny on the needle
Ball to the bosses so please don't violate or cross him
Or you'll be the corpse and the corpses
Look at you
me I'm goated, I think that I'm hardly great
Record recording show up to parties late
Don't tell me you know me my music hardly played
Starving artist
give a fuck that's my excuse and I don't need an audience around for me to let loose, you let loose I catch you then I stretch you, album front ya do
passion, anything that could equal some satisfaction
Looking for love at the end of this Hen bottle
Looking for pub', let me pen your next album
Call from
Racks on racks like woo
Them hoes don’t so what
U better stop that trash Grow up
They can never catch me sober
I get cash by spinning, so if I walk
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