Lyrics:
me what a man is.
Map life out and show me what the plan is, Lights out if you show me where the grand is.
To be honest and get candid, with no purpose
(Kontrol)
Kontol, gonna take kontrol (Kontrol)
I'll be walking by the street with my Gees (With my Gees)
Yeah, all of em' always dripping in sauce, ya dig?
girl even w/a badder body
Man She wifey
Man she got me
Ridding in my car now
Every time she cooking I getting hungry
I get fed now
Anytime she want it
don't wanna have a race
The jakes got my mans but I know he'll beat the case
How I'm switchin' fashion brands?
'Cause I'm makin' all this cake
I been
and rub the wood
See we got boppers in Texas oh, man that pussy look good
So, I let them hoes ride and I show them a grip
But she blinded by the candy
You can tell by the way I walk that I got 'em
Bail any girl that I wanna
Got bitches 'n marijuana
I can tell by the way you move that you
You look for a boujee bae
I'm looking for boujee pay
In love with Elizabeth's face
Italian passion for fashion
My bruddas be dripping with it
When we
man feeling like a King
You in fear cuz what we go through in this streets
Navigate through the snakes the fakes the police
I don't care what you do
up at my shows, drinking and getting blowed
South by southwest down in Texas I'm getting throwed
Yeah we stick to it, to the plan why don't you do it
the pain
I proudly claim that I'm unashamed
In me's a flame understanding gained
Grand exchange he took a broken heart repaired it branded plain
Grand
of a black man
Black editor, all of us ain't thuggin
Gossiping over who's homosexual
Some of us are black intellectuals, up in harlem world
You can't get with
tears, or be surprised
If you get the word, that your wild man's up and died
Just set me up a stone on that high hillside
Verse
Now in the pouring snow,
My grand-ma and your grand-ma were sit-tin' by the fire.
My grand-ma told your grand-ma: "I'm gon-na set your flag on fire."
Talk-in' 'bout, Hey
My grand-ma and your grand-ma were sit-tin' by the fire.
My grand-ma told your grand-ma: "I'm gon-na set your flag on fire."
Talk-in' 'bout, Hey
they see me, point and stare at me
'Cause they just wanna live through me vicariously
Fashion weekend, Paris week, party like a rock star
Get blown by
tuff gong
Stay iron with the lungs
While the chalice remain burning
Inna irie fashion say
Burn by the acreage
We burn by the pound
While this rudebwoy
a bottle of fine wine
Surf is up, got a boogie board passion
Wanna spend a day chillaxin' in fashion
Beat the blues forget about the work week
Plenty
span
And for what yo' life's worth, this money is twice than
You grab a couple grand and lay up in Iceland
See, I'm a nice man but money turned me
the pay
Make a hundred grand
Blow a hundred joints a day
Man these niggas think they
Better but they not
If I drop a song today I bet it'll be hot
It’s with
that I'm sat in
Front row seats doing fashion, got no heart I need passion
When I make a move it ain't random, I planned it
I'm out of this planet I'm
in my pocket and at least a grand
Gold on my knuckle, my pistol's closed in hand
I'm a Dogg Pound Gangsta from the LBC
Remotely controlled by
You're ready to tackle any task that is at hand
How does it feel? Is it fantastic? Is it grand?
Well, look at all the massive masses in the stands
You're ready to tackle any task that is at hand
How does it feel? Is it fantastic? Is it grand?
Well, look at all the massive masses in the stands
You're ready to tackle any task that is at hand
How does it feel? Is it fantastic? Is it grand?
Well, look at all the massive masses in the stands
_(3389753520).jpg/300px-End_of_Fashion_@_Fly_By_Night_Club_(20_3_2009)_(3389753520).jpg "End of Fashion")
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