Lyrics:
a picture hardcore with a gun
Pimpin' ain't easy but it's always fun (it ain't easy baby)
When it comes to nuts, I bust'em one by one
So what's the 411
in the dirt
You swear the bitch was planted
My lyrics motivate the planet
It's similar to Rhythm Nation
But thugged out, forgive me Janet
Who's in
panic
Bae, do you hear the rain outside?
I know we 'posed to be friends but I need you by my side
When I was on the deep end I had thought I would die
Puttin' my relations in your conversations
Shoot a opposition with no hesitation
You get my position then you better take it
Know some young bulls from
in the dirt
You swear the bitch was planted
My lyrics motivate the planet
It's similar to Rhythm Nation
But thugged out, forgive me Janet
Who's in
in my blood, you can tell by the way I walk
Oh lawd, more styles than a barber shop, call the cops
People in the way want to baller block
Little do
sleep
But the drinks are on us
If you with it then pull up a seat
When you're roaming through the jungle
Talk is nothing, talk is cheap
Time is
of the top dog, and ain't no stoppin' this
Whatever the case, I ain't tryin' to catch it
Lay low, blow big dope, and slang records
Unseen but well heard; do
been the same
Can't nobody do it like me
Is it ever gonna be another Luda you
Know that'll never happen
That's highly unlikely
Knowing that I'm better
rapper about to blow
But his album came, and it was not good
I think it went lead or double copper-wood
So the silly little fans, they were misled
By
of the streets (I know)
Live bad to die good
Know how to move when hustlin' by the days with no food
But just so I can eat (fuck)
And ain't it a bitch
And if
Oh, Pamela, what did you do?
You touched the ground, then I fell in love with you
Oh, Pamela, what did they say?
I reached for your hand but you
the shoes McQueen (wow)
You be tryin' too hard not to watch my stories
I was shakin' this ass, better not report me
I'm close by even though it's hard
a picture hardcore with a gun
Pimpin' ain't easy but it's always fun (it ain't easy baby)
When it comes to nuts, I bust'em one by one
So what's the 411
tend to trigger happy people
And some people who believe we not equal shoot up the steeple
My God, if you exist then why do you make life so hard?
If
outselling you
By 29 I had three albums that had blew
Now let's talk about somethin' I don't really do
Go in someone's daughter's mouth stealin' food
But
the same damn speech to the Oakland vice
But if you keep pushing, just like you
When they see me on the strip, coming through
I break it down so vicious
you acquire those Alaia's
When I met you I heard Jesus, bells, strings, and the choir
I got lines that's better than niggas' albums, plural
The king
but what if I
Lost it and came in the office and nobody noticed with liquid explosives on top of
Versace clothes give up the ghost Krayzie's Picasso,
to Ultra 85
Woo
What's up? What's happenin'? Bitch, we live
Probably thought you'd never see the day of Ultra 85
It's been a minute, but, baby, yeah,
a call on the phone if you can't speak
And you find it hard to breathe
Paralyzed by my essence, mere presence I put forth
Inherently legends record all
than ever
Ain't no more weed, alcohol and poppin' pills, etcetera
I know these days gettin' rough but they get better
It's a cold world, let's go
down the microphone, son, surrender, forfeit
Did I hear something 'bout a crew? What they wanna do?
You better call Mr. Babyface so he can bring out
extravagant, do your wrist too
Panic, I buy you a Patek you better go tat' it just like Nene too
Flood my kids with diamonds like I do my crew
Oh, tell me
.jpg/300px-Panic!_At_the_Disco_(43285362654).jpg "Panic at the Disco")
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