Lyrics:
victory dance
Murder motherfuckers mostly over money with guns to they tummies
Hollow-tips that leave you stiffer than a mannequin dummy
Record a demo
Valley
Off the record, through the rack and to the body
All around me, man that shit is knockin'
I like the way it's soundin' on this track like a trolley
hundred dollar bill
And make the chump feel silly, huh
You can't understand where my head's at
While I made a record talking about liking my pockets fat
the jungle vibe
Selling records from 9 to 5
I used to go old school
...
And skip a bus right then
I lost a vibe
Then UKG come alive
I'm talking munchie
knocks
Stay focused on God, bless tracks with passion
I'll be loving hip-hop till my flesh turns to ashes
I got a love/hate relationship with hip-hop,
to the angel eye, and paint pictures
With a pen, for the saints that die
Why you happy go lucky, off of record label lies
I make, rebel music, verse
You lived with your mum, I live with my dad
It was that little pad with a pool, house full of jazz
We had Coltrane playing on the record player
I
ya
Gonna make it alright
I'm running baby and there's nothing gonna stop me
Like a comet scorching down the track
No hesitation coming right into
somethin' still missin' 'til I find the void
I don't this shit for them, it's 'cause I enjoy it
Now all these records labels say they wanna sign the boy, no
on a track is nuclear fusion
A volatile, highly flammable, collusion of chemicals
Caught on a collision course with whoever try stepping to
Arms dealer got my
always pissed off, that's because I thought with my penis
It's all strategic, I'm just asking us the reason
Share my faith on the track, I'm just
back mit seiner Stimme, yeah
Mit Gefühlen im Text, es werden immer mehr
Der Sabbel muss mit Effekt push den Record Button
Ich hab n Date mit dem Beat,
huh)
Knick-knack-paddy-whack
Crashing up that Audi
I'm a schizo when I spit on track
This that shit that God was playing
In his fucking dreams
Beg
finished all the writing and it was time to record
I didn't know what I was doing when I opened the door into that booth
Yeah, I got it but it took me
was wack
And the remix
Had nothing to do
With that track
But I don't blame you
Believe me I know
The game
Record labels
Holly Gift Creative
about places
I'd be hanging out in it was a long way
But I'm here to say that Bro'Sis is here to stay
So you got the record on and it blows your
Mind
but obey the block rules
Cock tools put chlorine in record pools
Are there anyone like ya (Hell no!)
I treat humans like students (Fail y'all)
So
put that lick-a-shot shit to shame
I think we need to stick to bein black
So the next generation'll step up right on track (why?)
We gon' need 'em, so
I love this game, but at the same time I kind of hate it
Got me stressed and I can't figure if I'm going to make it
Got people telling me my records
track
One way or another I gotta get your record til they respect my get back
Yeah get the boot like Sicily, you fools too cool's how I hit the weed
Make
To The Track They Bring Me Money Back State To State Tony Is Great Money Is Made Catch Me In Miami Wit Miami Movin' Weight I Came In Da Dome Hater's On Da Floor
your fuckin' guts 'cause my record got bumped back
You went double-platinum, I went double-hubcap
A rugrat, you'd be pissed too suckin' a freshly
[Talking]
You know I usually don't do this on the first night (laughs)
H-hold up...what you want me to do with that?...damn I'm at it again..
TRACK
they can get an MP3 from a friends CD
Especially when there's less then three tracks ya like
If it was worth spendin' money then we actually might
So
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