Lyrics:
see by the blood on my cape."
(Chorus)
Verse 4
"Well I never was real or stronger than steel.
I'm a figment of Freudian need.
And the video
time
All for none, never one, two, three, four
March of the dogs to a beat of disillusion
Sworn under God, breeding panic and confusion
The white flag
out there saying
That that's not right
But our diamonds are much bigger
So that's our life
[Verse 2: (Baby)]
I told four I need something
With
black tee, Ball in his black tee
It ain't just me pimping we all got a black tee
[Verse 3: Young Jeezy]
And I got a 1-2 Bun
Got 36 O's for the 2-1
Two thousand, three thousand, four
Gotta fix her kitchen floor, here go three thousand more
Feel good to step up, make up what she can't afford
Keep
understand what it means to be black?
I have my man the Notorious B.I.G in the back
I go by the name of the Puff Daddy
But check this shit out
Four, five
shit from junior high (heyyy!)
[all] one, two, three, four
[rah] jersey's finest in the house, punchlines and metaphors
Make your foul ice grill, thug
'm holdin' out for three
Two seventy five and I just might agree
Ex-D-boy, used to park my beamer
Now look at me, I can park in my own arena
I only love
don't really look so bad, just your ears.
When do you take your braces off?
Four more years.
By the time your teeth are ready,
I'll be two feet taller,
Chris Ledoux
Blue Eyes and Freckles
Blue eyes and freckles neath a white cowboy hat
His two bestest friends are his dog and his cat
He's one
the city white lows, blue flags
Know I keep two flags on bang
I just dropped a Urus for the gang
Catch me in the city, young nigga, four chains
Signed
]
[Verse 2:]
We in the V.I.P. and everybody twisted baby drop it
low like a go go vixen lookin 4 my crew cause some of us missin'
Well money talk 4 me well
'm holdin' out for three
Two seventy five and I just might agree
Ex-D-boy, used to park my beamer
Now look at me, I can park in my own arena
I only love
numbers off a iPhone 5c
White bitch tan, lookin' like a orange Hi-C
Shawty gave top and I rated it a high C
Man, I'm back and I'm better
I gained a lil'
tree
Now
Sent by G.O.D
To save the word you and me
You never know who you facin'
Who ya chasin'
The life you wastin'
[Verse 2]
I was made by
this year
You got the white house
Protected by the government killers
We got the crack house
Protected by them neighborhood dealers
Gras
Bitches been going wild hit the sound cliche
Give me two bitches we could do this three ways
Four missed calls on my iPhone five
Bitch six feet
the money, two for pussy and foreign cars
Three for Alize, niggas deceased or behind bars
I rap divine, God, check the prognosis: is it real or showbiz?
My
the streets
Amma trap for life
Like polo Ts buss a pack of white
Just shot two youths for the cause
Had to make it spark like July 4
In love with my wife
But I
, spit dumb, moron
For white boys to snowboard on
So whatchu, whatchu, whatchu want?
Chew spearmint gum two double pump
Two cannons, piece by piece
understand what it means to be black?
I have my man the Notorious B.I.G in the back
I go by the name of the Puff Daddy
But check this shit out
Four, five
crippled by the manacles of segregation and the chains of discrimination. One hundred years later, the Negro lives on a lonely island of poverty in the midst
'll ever be
Alright, on 3
1 2 3!
FREEZE MOTHERFUCKERS!
Shoot that motherfucker!
Punk ass mothafuckin' police!
SA PRIZE NIGGAZ!
Fuck the police! Fuck,
up, cuz?
Thuggin' that dirty South
Four letters, two numbers, bitch, Grey59
Three fingers in the air, main bitch by my side
$licky pull up in
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