Lyrics:
you walk, love, I kiss the floor
Truck jewels, big stacks, mustard boots
Construction on her feet, she eat duck confit
I shoot up the club whenever
highwi,
Ocean hit the earth with a drive by,
Earth hit back with a mudslide,
Sky came down with a big smite
Wasn't ever sad when you died,
I'm glad when
you could pay with all the
Tears in your eyes
You'd be a rich little guy
You'd have no reason to cry
You'd be just cruising on by""
Cards out, hands
Truly I'm disgusted by you
Overweight don't even recognize you
For two years you been on autopilot
Post Covid you been fraternizing
Little action you
here flossin', Big Willies, we Willie Lynch 'em
Pull out the chopper, rappers hittin' the ground
Like every bar is a bullet, when I pull it, it sound
my name is dirty dan (Dan!)
Huh weird flex yea
Little wrist (Wrist)
Big watch (Big watch)
Your diamonds dancing (Diamonds dancing)
But not for long
eighty nine
cww man that don't fit the crime
Need a little bar light and a good time
Yeah that should do
Wading water by a shore line
Sounds just right
patrol
Beaver patrol
Beaver patrol
Beaver patrol
I'm pulling up
I shut off the keys
I say little girl, you wanna sit by me?
I say doll, what's your name?
by like "there he go"
I fit the description,
Black Tee an dickies, big glock wit me,
Real Dade County Nigga!
It's that little chico Pitbull,
And now Ladies & Gentlemen, Lupe Fiasco
Filet mignon with my food stamps
Car cosigned by my mama
Medical card from Obama
Background check for
just tryin' to reach my goal
Livin' life truly successful
So that my little soldier never have to sell no dope
All the Cutties from the pens comin'
It's a big job gettin' by with nine kids and a wife
You know I've been a workin' man dang near all my life
I'll keep on working long as my two
Phenomenon O.C.
Big L, 0-3-9 baby
Diggin' In The Crates
Yeah yeah, this is Joe the God, Terror Squad reppin'
Yo, yo, yo
I'm from a place where
the dash in Mary's crumpled up machine
A little matchbox circled by a rubber band
And inside the ring from Walter Browning's hand
It took a while to figure
just a game of chess
Where ancient gods and devils fight.
People stagger by you,
Thick blood running down their faces,
While little jet-black
Un, deux, trois (uh ah, turn it up a little bit more)
Bang, bang, bang
Feathers, I'm plucking feathers
One by one, by one
No more skylarking,
Smelled on your aura, heaven scent
I know you were hurt
By some damn peasant
I wrote you an album, I got presents
Yeah you dyed your hair all black
And I'll
What's Up
by 4 Non Blondes
album: Bigger Better Faster More! (1992)
Twenty-five years and my life is still
Trying to get up that great big
I came to the big ol' city
Not knowing a soul
I had a little bit of weed
And a couple of rolls
Pop one, pop two, pop three, pop four
And I was
name, and money
The town said "How did a middle class divorcée do it?"
The wedding was charming, if a little gauche
There's only so far new money goes
Nigga you think im a young boo/ well fuck you!/ i may be young but i pack a big gun/ i say fuck edited - i buy the explicit cause im implicit/ that means
Un, deux, trois (uh ah, turn it up a little bit more)
Bang, bang, bang
Feathers, I'm plucking feathers
One by one, by one
No more skylarking,
of that dust
Money got a little dust on it
Blunt got a little tuss' on it
Fell in love with that white girl
At first I had a little crush on it
Dope coming
Hollywood
Riding with my headphones on
In the back of my mama's car
Winding down that dirty road
Town was close but it felt far
Town was close but it
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