Lyrics:
new trash bags dag
And they know where to dump that ass
In the Cha-tahoochie
River with the rest of the kids
That did business outside la familias
bitch I just want to fuck you
Dick, sucked the whole night through
Ass, licked as if I was a star
This dick is for you baby; wherever you are, hey
you trippin I say to myself
'Is she all that?
I'm on my bitch ass like I'm lo jack'
Just hold that
I don't really like when she be callin her best
got the power
Blood sheds on the wall during the witching hour
IN THE DARKNESS - see me ride by in an Impala
Draggin' some fuck ass by the foot and hear
a book out called The Emperor Wears No Clothes. The author's name is Jack Herer. It's published by Queen of Clubs, and I think there's ads for it in High
on me just like the force
Snuck her in but she better be out by the morning
Double cup I've been sipping hi tech
If that nigga ain't gang he ain't earn my
you bitches
One by one bitch I used to be so different
Used to care about you thots
Now I just want some top
Uh, If the bitch is tripping ima tell that
said didn't pan out
Pan the camera to me I'm the man
No block work baby we smoke by the strand now
You ain't standing ten toes better stand down
When I'm off that Henny feel like Jack Jack
Them A F 1 my super suit they black black
Puffin on these zooties off that gas pack
Twenty-one no savage
the grape juice crew
If there ain't no liquor I sip my wine too
When I'm off the handle
Shout out to Jack Daniel
I even got his bottle sitting by my mantel
in my walls ay
Went and sold my soul jugged the devil got it back ay
This the house that jack built warm up by the fireplace
Hell is where Im
the top
Lips say no but the raps don'g stop
Can't go bail like a dirty ass cop
Running through ya block like a raid by the swat
Team been ready for that
minerals and those jewels
Because its me, the E on the attack and I'm back with this jack, and
Coming up on some products that I'm lacking
Well I'm that
Creepin, hittin switches, bumpin, riding low
Danger sittin shotgun, Crook's rollin up one
Got the rag-top down in this hot ass sun
Rollin, by the park we go
Man, I don't know why the fuck these fake ass rappers keep thinkin' they could fuck with me (Don't fuck with me)
I'm a winner, we some winners (Don't
Nasty Nas is a rebel to America
Police murderer, I'm causing hysteria
My troops roll up with a strange force
I was trapped in a cage and let out by
sixteen with a dope man dream
Since thirteen with a flea market ring
Me and my brother buying fake-ass gold
Trying to impress them fake-ass hoes
Y'all
candy paint, sprayed by that Eddie
12 coats of that clear lookin' like some grape jelly
My paint's drippin' wet, my slab is superb
Park the truck
on the map
Doin' jumpin jacks whilin' get whipped on my back
Look at Em little punk ass thinkin' he the shit
Yeah, I know, man, by himself, taking all
on the map
Doin' jumpin jacks whilin' get whipped on my back
Look at Em little punk ass thinkin' he the shit
Yeah, I know, man, by himself, taking all
on blunts, I knock out fronts
And I'm bout as wicked as a wicked-ass witch from the west
So you and Toto better know that it's Yo-Yo
I'm cute, I loot,
I got too much
My God too much weed in my blunt
My God too much lean in my cup
Live like rock stars, pop stars, cop cars
On our, ass, dash,
but the snakes
Until you put em to the test and
They gon show who really fake (Fuck)
Scary ass niggas say that
They be pulling triggers
I never seen you
harder than that
But I got standard from when
Niggas rocked a starter cap
And I got morals for myself
I'm living by a code
And I arrive for you even if you
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