Lyrics:
follow me biatch!
Nigga what, nigga who? (Niggas can't fuck with me)
Nigga what, nigga who? (Get ready, yo)
Spit ya flow, get ya dough
Can't fuck
It's ya nigga Ne-Yo, I come to get ya'll up
u got yo hands up and I aint even stick ya'll up
not anotha fa brothas with baby mothas
chicks in outfits
be weary, watch for caution, yo be warned
By Dre and out the project born
Capable in any and every
Cause yo I get heavy, when introduced to a medly
(Aye TM)
All the dawgs that watch yo' moves you gotta play 'em close
All them drugs stacked in one crib, that's what get raided most
I know one
[Chorus]
Ol' English (la-lala-la-la-la-la)
Ridin' by gettin' high
Smokin' on that chronic drinkin' Ol' English
Rags tied gangs signs Letters
heat
Word on the street Soulo done done it again
Look at me
I used to match a dub sack with my friends
Now we smokin' by the O
Like the letters P and N
the back of the apartment where they be selling ganja,
but beware of the AK held by HM Thomas,
son gotta keep him high in them bottoms or some old
it?
"Je ne sais quoi" is how the French bitches would mention him
Never known for loving 'em all, having 'em driving his cars
Having 'em in the mall
the back of the apartment where they be selling ganja,
but beware of the AK held by HM Thomas,
son gotta keep him high in them bottoms or some old
the sunshine gazing through the window pane (yeah)
Blazin' like indo flame, it's to wake up! Come to yo' senses manye
Snow is all around you, but you don't
how the fuck I'm 'posed to say this?
You see, my nigga just lost his son while I'm here huggin' on my daughter
I grip her harder
Kiss her on the head
Yo B, they ready
Let's go
Feelin' myself, I'm feelin' myself
I'm feelin' my, feelin' myself
I'm feelin' myself, I'm feelin' my, feelin' my,
speeds, dumpin' on the cops
It's mad dope like the Grinch, who did what? Who stole Christmas
Attitude over there by the fence butt naked
Toe-tagged him
as we wine and dine
Grab my sister, and whisper
Yo, this one's mine
(Ooh) my sister made her way across the room to you
And I got nervous,
with it
Hit the gas on the light like
A nigga tryna spark with it
I'm a G though, lookin' like Ne-Yo
No I ain't a singer but green
I never see low
How
hello and welcome
to common sense 101
i am your proffeser
i go by the name of ne-yo
now i will not sit here n say that i kno it all
but i kno enough
her picture on his wall,
Went half-crazy now and then
He still loved her through it all,
Hoping she'd come back again
Kept some letters by his
Bad day with my bitch
Negativity on my phone is ridiculous
Limo shine up on the real Tech N9ne
They talkin' 'bout I'm the sickness
Comin' at that
at the viewing, Ty mom crying to him
He hug her, he tell her whoever did this, he gone do 'em
From there it was a silence, she ain't condone violence
But they
You know the type (Yeah, I know what you mean)
Gold and cars (cars and gold
The more he got, yo, the more he sold
He told her he loved her (Huh, gased
of the calm, the witty
Yo shut the fuck up!
Luck said shut the fuck up!
Bitches in the back, like crack get it cut up
I speak on behalf of them broads you
guzzlin' forties
We're bout to rob and steal and get real fuckin' naughty
One carries a three pound the other a four fifth
Both ready to buck
be a phony in the litter
Take it as a letter from the better
Take it from a man who used to rhyme in busted ass Jettas
Yo, Phife, you need a condom
demanded all kinda things
Corrupted buy the light, she could only see the green
Wanted kids so I can be there by any means
Let her tell it we were
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