Lyrics:
your automatic
(Boo-yaa!) Spitting out buckshots
Homey say bloodclat, so you can call a pig
'Cause no one could handle, I wind up, and loco
Insane in
your automatic
(Boo-yaa!) Spitting out buckshots
Homey say bloodclat, so you can call a pig
'Cause no one could handle, I wind up, and loco
Insane in
grandma pacemaker and just handle the piece
Not two fingers I simultaneously bop two bangers
You do not want angus USDA prime beef, ya dead meat
I'm so
know they can't handle torch better
You better play wright like Andrew Lloyd Webber
Never change when I'm back at the source
Niggas change in the back
Syria?
First black president, the masses were hungry
But the same president just
Bombed an African country
The Jonas Brothers are here
They're out there
grandma pacemaker and just handle the piece
Not two fingers I simultaneously bop two bangers
You do not want angus USDA prime beef, ya dead meat
I'm so
bedside
Now it's in the dresser with the socks you don't like
And I'm rollin', rollin', rollin', rollin'
With my brothers like I'm Jonas, Jonas
Drinkin'
Now, '94 to '95, innocent without crime
(Drop that shit)Yeah, yeah, check it out
Now run for your life, or you wanna get your heat, whatever
We can
sound of this, something's comin'
You can picture like a photograph, envision the image
Of one-two-fifth street and Lenox
The old folks their souls
club, thugged out, guzzling Remy
I'm the reason why your heat don't work
Most of you cowards and
When it comes to hammers
You can't work the jerk
I'm
toes down on the dash getting' fast food
Hope you can handle the heat
Put your name in the streets
Get used to my fans looking at you
Fuck what they
thought that it was funny
But who's the dummy, 'cause, now you done lost the hustler
A down-ass brother done been replaced by a buster
And though I got
Eatin' Wingstop, what you know about Wingstop, nigga?
You don't know nothin' about no Wingstop
You can't handle this, nigga
You can't handle, sit down
to a Plain Jane
Hate the shit you can't change (skrrt)
Tryna be a winner, but I still be feelin' lost in it (woo)
Tryin' not to sin but that shit hard when
the Lord, for all of your needs
I guarantee He'll make a way
Trust the Blood, you got the faith
Doctor can't do it the lawyer wants his pay
But the Blood is
then red, white and blue
[Chorus]
Ridin' in the street you can feel the city heat
A little bit of grass and a whole lot of concrete
Creepin', I'm
(Lights)
Laminates, cameras, ice (Ice)
4 am morning flights (Flights)
Uh I don't think you can handle that pal
I don't think you can handle this crowd
didn't handle my functions while in high school
Although I was cool
The hood I live in ain't that proper
'Cause a cop'll stop ya
And have you
You not a wifey, I can't fall in love with no ho (I can't)
Stopped doin' Molly, now Ecstacy, I'm right back on it (on it)
It's cashmere, special
please nigga
Here we go - Just Blaze!
To all my niggas on the porch gettin they hair braided
Cornrowed by a L.A. bitch
And I can't forget, my niggas ridin
brother
We had to share a mattress
No heat, no lights
Had to keep them candles lit
My daddy left me at 8
In an out my life and shit
Gang bangas dope dealers
the funkiest, dopest heat on the streets
Three G ski, Slimm, Big Boi and this is C B-O-N-E
If you need some back-up, find your own
Your girl gonna give you
[Chorus:]
You can bop your head like this (Ha)
When we're dropping bombs like this (Ha)
You can bop your head to this (Ha)
When we're dropping bombs like
got next and it don't matter
What they say we gon' make it
This is for the little girls
That say "Nicki, you pretty"
When you come to the city
You
_1895-6.jpg/300px-Lautrec_la_troupe_de_mlle_eglantine_(poster)_1895-6.jpg "Can Can")
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