Lyrics:
be heaps of it ...
[Ratcliffe]
And I'll be on top of the heap!
My rivals back home
It's not that I'm bitter
But think how they'll squirm
When they see
a point that I'm a serious joint
You can roll me up and puff me, and then I'll anoint
Your head with oil lots of oil
Make it run like water, watch it
'm the people's champ
Pap the golden apple out the camp
Don't ever tell me what I can't
Up the Drac' and make a nigga tap dance
Beat the pot, hit it the with
Check
How we sounding?
Pretty good?
Alright, let's get it then
I'd like to kick this thing off with a little disclaimer
Beats this hard make
it the grave
If I found out you stole from me I'm chopping off yo hands
Hang 'em outside of my house so the world can see from my land
I go psycho bout
because the groove is smooth
It makes me move and I'll improve
As it goes on, as it flows on
When you see me, don't ask if the show's on
How that
it off in this bitch
Double breasted Smith n' Wesson to set it off in this bitch
While I took over the city
Niggas wonderin' how we did it
Married
shit came from within this
Rollin' in this money
And it's so tremendous
Watch me count this cash
I don't know how I'll spend this
Hand going back
of your parents side by side in I.C.U (everybody lose)
Closed casket so they can't have a proper wake
Don't interfere with family business, that's how we
don't mean the club
I'm talking 'bout my crib, mama, I'm trying to fuck
It's cash money baby, it's young money, bitch
Now you can swallow that or you
Fresh out on bail, niggas still can't see me
That's how it is
Now we got a new motherfuckin' plan
And a new mission
(Makaveli the Don, Greg Nice, cocoa
a joke, but then again, what if it wasn't?
Would I really risk the chance of me potentially fucking on some stranger daughter 'cause I barely know if I can
It don't feel right, it don't feel right
I don't feel, I don't feel, I can't feel it no more
It don't feel right, it don't feel right
I don't feel, I
relationship a fake, or real as the heavens be?
See I got to question it all; family, friends, fans, cats, dogs
Trees, plants, grass, how the wind blow,
can't compete
(100) all by myself, I'm 100 deep
I was on the first 50
Now the powers at a dollar
Politician pushing tracks in it, mayor
I president in it
know these niggaz hoped I wouldn't make it, fuck you
Your hatred only made me wanna cake ya, fuck you
Wherever I see you nigga I'ma buck you
And put
a guillotine
But she know how it go I stretch that bitch out like a limousine
She feeling me but the thotty isn't mines billie jeans
Back going dum
I don't think
can hate all you wanna hate
I know you a fake-make no mistake I'm talking to you
You's a lame you's a shame to the game
I say it you know what ya
won't be sorry (nah)
I'm a dog that can't be stopped, they call me Marley (woof woof)
Gimme that top shelf, no barley
If I don't see purp, that shit ain't
I had my face down
You were in my head
I was hanging by a thread
And you cut it loose
I can't keep everything inside
Cause the pain and the sadness
With an architectural design by TraxNYC, believe it
I'd ask to rock it, but I might fall
And by the way, how much of a ball was Live at Carnegie Hall?
I'm writin this cause I'm out of it
And I'm bored as shit Call me Plywood Jim
Or Woody Slim maybe Johnson Twig
It don't matter bitch you can call me Tim
aye)
I swear this steppin' life is such a vibe
Selling them bags and offering bribes (yeah, ha)
Got a new glock and its by Smith and Wesson
Don't fuck
Smith]
I see your tears in the dark
I no go leave you just like that
I know how much you've tried
You've tried; you wanna make it so fast
But everything is
_1895-6.jpg/300px-Lautrec_la_troupe_de_mlle_eglantine_(poster)_1895-6.jpg "Can Can")
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