Lyrics:
bright shore)
When I must cross that rolling tide,
There'll be someone on the other side
Welcoming me to that fair land, made perfect by love
When I walk
I was on the inside looking out for you
You were on the outside looking in
We were a witchy coven of white women
We knew a lot about a regional
than model make up
But ya'll wait up my mind racing my toe slippin'
A lot of women is real some bitches Robin Givings
I never give 'em no liquid no
a five, Carter Cinco
And since I'm on my Spanish shit, them other boys finito
We gon' start this shit off right
We got bad ass bitches in the house
handlin' they weight
55 percent of these women is hoes
The other 45 percent be playin' they role
Mr. Officer, Mr. Officer
Take these motherfuckin'
just loving it
That's for them other niggas, that's for the other bitches
That ain't for you dawg, that's for them other niggas
That ain't for you
from all the spheres
The men be bathed in light, my love
The women clothed in white, my love
All in that wondrous fleet, my love
As each the other
great in her heyday
I'm sometimes trapped by the close confines
Of the age I'm born into
Though there were others worse than mine
Well, I miss what
handlin' they weight
55 percent of these women is hoes
The other 45 percent be playin' they role
Mr. Officer, Mr. Officer
Take these motherfuckin'
at all these posers bite, our swagger like a great white,
Try to cross me over I just fake left then I break right,
Stupid animal tricks like David
Rope, katana, and then I skin 'em
All beige suit made out of white women
With the red lipstick dancing to John Lennon
With the red sweater jeans made
please stand up?
I think we have a problem here
Y'all act like you never seen a white person before
Jaws all on the floor like Pam, like Tommy just
to switch the hue 'cause them LA boys smuggy
But more likely to get hurt by somebody who love me
My lady, she don't trust me (nah), know I'm a sick puppy
on the pillow
And streched my hand out
On the cool white linen -
And sing you lemon melody
I kept the shoes on the sill
By the window seat -
In case you got
Copper Helicopter when I'm playing golf (fore)
Yeah yeah yeah yeah, hooah, hooah, hooah
Yeah, I got bitches by the catalogue playing leapfrog
of that bold (bold),
New (new) breed (breeding)
That extinguishes itself
By markings which resemble a
Wide tie
Directly below the
White collar
If it's
in the yard
But it's gettin' harder
By the crossroads (you gotta meet me)
Oh, we're goin', we're goin' great
At the edge of town (tropic corridor,
the stash than me
Y'all bitches wanna ride, c'mon it's on me
I guess it's my time, all eyes is on me
Man everybody wanna rhyme like Rule, sing like Rule
to seek attention
Just to keep these womens on me
I know it's wrong
I know it's wrong
I know it's wrong
I know it's wrong
Fuckin' on that bitch
in the yard
But it's gettin' harder
By the crossroads (you gotta meet me)
Oh, we're goin', we're goin' great
At the edge of town (tropic corridor,
Luda! It's lunar how I maneuver
In the night time
If it's bad bitches, it's the right time
Vintage Rolex
Time pieces that last a life time
Whenever I
see through the haze of your little white lies
And I guess that's why they call them Great Smoky Mountains
'Cause they cover every trace and they
bright shore)
When I must cross that rolling tide,
There'll be someone on the other side
Welcoming me to that fair land, made perfect by love
When I walk
on the right
Driving down the wrong street, thinking what the fuck I'm gon' eat tonight
White women laying in my bed, I can make a documentary
On what race
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