Lyrics:
in the mood, just go with the flow
And I can play rapping records and all disco
Like "Beat It," "Billie Jean," by Michael Jackson
Or the Treacherous
you keep it 100, 100, 100 when you're round me
Girl, when you come around me
Time to keep it 100, I'm a boss chick but he run it
No Michael Kors just
But my grip, is when my fingers curl around the mic
I know what it's like, a dog eat dog world
But I'm a carnivore, out on the parquet floor
and it hurts 'cause it's worse
Momma's crazy 'cause her baby's in a hearse
Wussup wit the love?
This land once owned by Indians, who then would learn
yeah, yeah)
Of how I'd rock the mic, and make it to the bright screen
I'm tryin' to make a dollar out of fifteen cents
It's hard to be legit and still
it)
She suckin' on dick until six (yeah, ugh)
I make a movie, I'm goin' Michael Bay (yeah)
Huncho the sensei ('Cho)
The way that I'm movin', we
it be known, I'm not the one to step to
You're better off callin' D-Nice to your rescue
Freestyle fanatic, probably the best around
As for corny
in the mood, just go with the flow
And I can play rapping records and all disco
Like "Beat It," "Billie Jean," by Michael Jackson
Or the Treacherous
want to be,
You're gonna have to learn pimpology.
Pimpology, a pimp's profession.
Can't be effected by the Great Depression.
So if you want to be
school.
In this man's world, you can't be no fool.
If a pimp is what you wanna be,
You're gonna have to learn pimpology.
Pimpology: a pimp's
schools
Dyin to get busy, because I knew I had the tools
Then I got the heart and went by the set
I said, "Yo, I wanna rock the set" "Yeah no sweat"
Kickin
Party-having people guaranteed to be like having a ball
H-h-h-hey, we gonna do a little something like this I say
I'm the rap promoter, I start to motor
to the beat, all
Party-having people guaranteed to be like having a ball
H-h-h-hey, we gonna do a little something like this I say
I'm the rap promoter, I
ain't stopping till be sprayed it
Oh my god, for real man, not again I'm shaking
But before I tie a rope around this nob
If they don't like it, got a knob
D'void of funk so my set don't Slop
I'm kind of Cosmic like Vernon
I rap around the mic like Fuzzy
And like Starchild and Grady
I grab the funk by the neck
pussay
From OJ to Kobe, uh let's call him Tobe
First he played his life
Cool just like Michael
Now he rock ice too just like I do
Yo, you can't do better
with the program
I'm a grown ass man, call me pops
Fuck around and take your phone ass man
Everybody know Jack, but they don't know Jack, man
They
yeah, yeah)
Of how I'd rock the mic, and make it to the bright screen
I'm tryin' to make a dollar out of fifteen cents
It's hard to be legit and still
'em
I know y'all in the mood, just go with the flow
And I can play rappin records and all disco
Like "Beat It," "Billie Jean," by Michael Jackson
Don't be confusing me with haters, player
Get your paper
Just show respect to the folks who made you
(yeah)
Blessed by the creator so give money nigga
stepping in the name of love
She fuck with Michael B. Jordan 'til she saw him wearing Coach
I told her meet me up at Fendi, we can step it up
Met Gala
With blond hair, blue eyes, the whole shabang
I know one thing, police wouldn't always be watching me
Pull me over for nothing, constantly jockin' me
rocks, fuck it
The nigga rock
You can smell-a lel-a lel what
He cookin' around the block, uh
His pot hot, the nigga is the rock, aha
I'm bullshittin', I'm
revolve around everything you got
From outta nowhere, prepare, you be blinded by the glare
I told you not to stare, now you're turned into stone
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