Lyrics:
of your cage, no mercy, first strike
Come on everybody, show me what you got
Can't be stopped or topped, you only need one shot
I'm old school strong, my
a bitch, 'cause they all evil
You can't fold on yo niggas, 'cause they all need you
I'm in the lab, cooking shit up, like a science teacher
If you can't
building up I think I need my medicine
Rolling up the dosja I appreciate the compliments
Its all about opinions to afraid to say the facts and then
Forget
and phat fi-darm
Every time I get my spit on, no doubt, I spark the gridiron
I step up and bless the track and spit a jewel
We keeps cool, no need for
Cause You're all I need yeah yeah
You know John 3 30 says He must increase and I must decrease
So Lord would you help me in that area
Help us in that area
I got my heart on my sleeve and my blade on my hip
Need a w by any means watch me flip
Surviving off a tea and the fucking schmole hits
Uchiha blood
the fake you need Lasik
Got homies that run state like John Kasich
If you ain't bumpin' the key then don't waste it
I can't tolerate got no patience
Only way
who be after me
No one's better at writing songs
I'm the Hip-hop Messi
The savior of Rap Music
And i was saved by Jesus
Him and God only one above me
the crib
We be kings
We be royal and shit
Rollies with the rings
I need things
I need plenty things
Need me many things
"cause we on
Always steady
then I tell that hoe its John doe
Number 9 like I'm rondo, big ass leaf I'm bout to use the whole fronto
Need my money pronto, before you be fineto,
or I'd be swimming like the Polish Hill pool at 2am by the skate park
Your gonna need more than your little fake white Jesus to save you, my mom taught me
your whole team up)
Take care of B.I., Chef (got your back John John)
(Yeah, bust it, yo, yo)
Fly G.I. Nigga
Now, yo, yo, what up, yo? Time is
your whole team up)
Take care of B.I., Chef (got your back John John)
(Yeah, bust it, yo, yo)
Fly G.I. Nigga
Now, yo, yo, what up, yo? Time is
Backwoods stuffed with a 3.5
When I creep by, probably throwin' peace signs out the window
I'm busy, I ain't got time for pretendin'
Yeah, hit her
like John Gotti
I don't need no friends
They gone get you in the end
Say he got a chopper that cut up
And got his ahh blend
All up in the streets
Got
It Is You
Performed by: John Marlowe
Melody composed by: Dean Mark Hilario Enoza
Lyrics written by: Dean Mark Hilario Enoza & Joel Zaporteza
John Rambo (x2)
Smell my fist your death whats next
1 blow 7 die who’s next
Observation matters
Me and my man observing matters
Cris and cross
Freeing the damned by being free as I am
And speaking belief into people sittin' with reason to stand
Who just might be needing a hand
I got you
9th
Spend a whole lotta nights tryin' not to die my nigga
Never said that I was perfect
I'm just gettin' by my nigga
Everybody wanna see me down
That's
agreed, sacrifice was the code of the road.
I left town at dawn, with Marcel and St. John, strong men belittled by doubt.
I couldn't tell her what my
the M-I-crooked
Just to make 'em peep what I'm cookin', I love Mississippi
I put a studio in my partner kitchen
So by the way I'm whippin you would think I
Words and music by John Kay, Michael Wilk and Rocket Ritchotte
And she walks along by the river
Where you can be alone with your dreams
And she
I ain't fuckin with none of ya'll
Real ones be
Too hard to
Come by
No shade boy yeah
Let um sun dry
Truth is
You a bitch
Man that's no lie
The sound of the waves on the embankment
A phone in my left pocket
I'm leaving, you're staying
A forgotten city by me
You're so beautiful, my dream hasn't
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