Lyrics:
(not loud)Here I go drivin'by your house might as well throw some rocks at your window
(gets louder)Yeh... But you don't
to seem care, or maybe
home
Just my chair and my TV
My cigarettes, my stereo, and my DVD's
So lend me your ear I feel like grandstanding
Because everyone I know is growing up
Scientists swear by me
Imagine Einstein in Carmen Jones's body
Gave you auditions
They say I'm a gymnast in business
My summersault your positions
Waste
fuck you up, young buck
Bust you in your head, leave your body by the dump truck
Revolution got me pumped up
But it's still a fact black people still
indeed
Gotta know you're ver-ily respected, by me
You get the keys to the Lexus, but no drive
You get your own 2002, she through ridin'
Keep yo' ass
bitches (let's go)
I know you with your folks, but that nigga is broke
You might as well open your legs up and let a nigga poke
I'm a show you what it is
bitches (let's go)
I know you with your folks, but that nigga is broke
You might as well open your legs up and let a nigga poke
I'm a show you what it is
Think about the smarts, words said of wise
Do it like paz and I do it like Nas
You got two small fries by the size
And I get a gat, two times, two
fuck you up, young buck
Bust you in your head, leave your body by the dump truck
Revolution got me pumped up
But it's still a fact black people still
coachin' us on
Yo, it's kill or be killed
Understand, real'll be real
A forty-shot spectrum make your whole embassy kneel
Identity sealed, protected by
coachin' us on
Yo, it's kill or be killed
Understand, real'll be real
A forty-shot spectrum make your whole embassy kneel
Identity sealed, protected by
Athlete turned-actor, it must come as a shock
To be this big and still
Get overshadowed by The Rock
You take credit for "Despacito
" that's just silly
It's
The only statement I'm makin' is royalties (rock the dollars)
Seven digits never under my bank account hold
Numbers like your phone number, plus area code
[Bun B]
Now if you come down to this dirty south
Betta' watch your ears cause country boys talk with a dirty mouth
And they on them corners and they
Rain
Ville make the hall of fame, nahmsayin
Så jeg tok en tur til Hollywood sekken
Full av dreams
Skulle make the big screen, by any means
Så jeg
Waiting around a crew of thugs
That parade in blue and yelling 'cause
(Whats up? 'Cuz)
Ate by selling drugs
'38 snub in the waist, in case fools lose
them bitches (let's go)
I know you with your folks, but that nigga is broke
You might as well open your legs up and let a nigga poke
I'm a show you
Tool
I'm real nigga, you so full
World tours, and you local
All you say this shit on the menu
Give me large fries and I’ll be cool
Put your hands down by
Maximize; but you can take your bottom line and shove it
Gotta get away (gotta get away)
Gotta get away, but I need a little help tonight
What 'ya gonna
turned artists
Get with that or get in the moshpit
Where's your moxie, in truth from Poppy
Young man, you not actin' too cocky
Prolly 'cause I'm
like I'm UGK
Asshole by nature like my name was Trae
And I don't gang-bang, I patrol the game
And what I'm representing here is putting holes in
to get your fuckin throat slit
I wanna call Gus and hang you by your pedo wrists
This is not a threat, just a little wish
Also scammy fake mechanics do
Artist/Band Jaheim
Song title Could It Be?
Album
Submitted by Terronald
Lyrics Huh, uh yeah
Bout to put it to 'em
With some ghetto slick shit, heh
and bang
If a nigga don't know better peep the game
SUC we running thangs
Finna smash me a nigga
I'm a young gun nigga by the name of Trae
Wrecking this
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