Lyrics:
to tip(q)
In gangways where cats that rhyme the same way
Spending nites over Egypt to learn a brave day
Paint a picture of the ghetto like JJ
You the Ray
minded niggas, Alpha have it positioned
That's opposition, wetttin me competition
Suddenly and outta tha blue and now I see
by myself, by myself
wanna freak that, ain't got no shame
I'ma blast off like a damn Houston Rocket
Roll around town with some dank in my pocket
Grandma say, "Ronnie Ray
to tip(q)
In gangways where cats that rhyme the same way
Spending nites over Egypt to learn a brave day
Paint a picture of the ghetto like JJ
You the Ray
more of dat
Got her wit tha sexy can i
Like im ray j
Naw we aint exclusive
Just fckn bonding and bae caes
Put her in Medusa
Her head game super cray cray
yea I record break it
VS 3
Two week rappers tryna copy, they clones, trash in their own bodies
Walking with a bunch of bitches, coming in by tha bunch
Don't fuss we seein eye to eye
I push the 6 and pass by you're 5
And rush hour in ya ride
Your girl by my side
We gon crush tonight right?
ray j chorus:
Patron, couple gallons a day
Let's take our clothes off, bombs away
Pick a song, Chris Brown, Ne-Yo or Ray J
To get you in the mood, now you ready
Scotty, I'm talkin' switch my mood by Puffy crib (wow)
Screamin', "Yes sir" (yes sir) matching stretched furs (fur)
My diamonds go, "Brr" (brr), yeah,
the man with the master disaster
Break ya like plaster-plan and
The cards on the table, and the deal is dealt
Uh, I'm in the mood for a tuna melt
And I
the man with the master disaster
Break ya like plaster-plan and
The cards on the table, and the deal is dealt
Uh, I'm in the mood for a tuna melt
And I
Hope that you don’t think I’m moving fast but you should stay the night
I’m looking at my mood ring and its telling me the mood is right
Judging by
Ray's almost got my ass kicked
Rather just chill in the yard in my casket
Call up the hoes, have em swing by the tomb
And get a little sticky stank up
Shawty
Shawty
Shawty
Shawty
Twerk on me like dat, yeah, aah
Dance on me like that, yeah
Twerk on me like that, yeah
I feel in love you kuz I know tha
they right or wrong
Fuck them niggas they stay dissin in they fucking songs
Fuck pussy nigga tell his ass stay at home
Tryina get by tryina get by tryina
butches nigga, they than want to give me cash in figures
I’ve got no love for my rivals
Written by J.Lewis
lost my cool in a while
Mood always on chill don't mean I gotta smile
If you don't like me don't mean you gotta hate
I done been here before so ain't
Ray-Ban a specchio
La mista nel cocco
A domicilio
Dall'Olanda o il Marocco
(Eeh)
In strada come in spiaggia
(Eeh)
Quel Kymco Sniper viaggia
(Eeh)
In strada
remember days when I could only smoke on occasion
I couldn't wait to go and cop from ray and them
rollin blunts of 50, stuck in my moms basement
had dro for
blades
But stay inside the shade
They shrouded with tha haze
Only with tha sun rays you could see 'em
But they still carry mask upon they face
(Uh)
Where
Niggas that's in sports
All this type of shit as heroes
They might look at motherfuckin Muhammed Ali
Yah know Sugar Ray Leanord, Mike Tyson, but me..
we’ve been clear
And I pull up in tha front not in tha rear
And dem cops don’t see me smile when they near
And it’s just kush in tha air, and you hating
bitches showin' out
Ok with the J ok with the day
Never going in and all I do is make play
Burnin up them bushes and then
Make a newly slay free my nigga
In collectin' cream
A made nigga, Picture me dyin' in the blaze
Or gunfire will not retire 'til I'm paid
Turn the bass up high
When we ride, we fly by
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