Lyrics:
I done, I done took this shit to a whole nother level
I done made 13 songs in three days
They can't fuck with me in this city
These niggas dying
the rest of who knows
This ain't a song this is poetry
Woke up before anyone, now I see
Im being chased by none
All is to win or lose and if you think
I'm
the bank and put it all in envelopes
Gave my mama four, gave my brother five, gave my cousin two
Gave my DJ three, I'm trying to get this pain out
I
moment)
Tempo slows down
Toy Verse 3: Next morning Tomtom says goodbye to his star.
Always by my side
Ready for a hug
Ready for a kiss
I see my shining
less, because I don't like germs
On the mic I like to psyche by usin phrases and terms
That only I could begin to comprehend
And understand how I use
Death to all the Karens
Multifaceted interference, call your parents
God never saved the day she ran the play like pallbearers
Three of us on both
on the green dot
Livin by the g code feelin on the g spot
I just put a couple hundred
On my brothers books
I just spent a coule bands
On some stripper puss
She
we can never repay
But I appreciate my brothers who look past my face color and kick it with the kid without
Feeling some type of way
I want to know
New day same clothes so grimey
No phone they don't know where to find me
Aint nobody looking anyways
Unless it's cars passing by me
On the boulevard
tell by the castle
I can't sit right
I like my girl to fit tight too
I am wit my goons
I gotta take a shit by noon
I'm a big tycoon
Flexing
[DJ Crack-Out talking]
1, 2, 3, ready?, sing
[Big Heavy singing]
I love weed, you love weed, its the best without the seeds
Home grown fine,
got his first
white pussy
But I'm still annoyed blowin through your selenoid
Bringing more Blues to Brothers than Jon Belushi and Dan Akroyd
"Do that dance, grown up" - sample repeated throughout the song
[Intro: Masta Killa (Raekwon w/ sample)]
Turn my microphone up a little high..
braids, waves
Afros, Gumby's, high tops, fades (come on)
Diadoras, Pumas, Nikes, the brand with three stripes (uh-huh)
All di Clarks, spot bills, British
like a bitch, get smacked by your pimp
Your steelo's undercover, corny on the real brother
Keep that mop down, just like your album sound
You flop,
He's got the hair of three strong men
And I've got the hair of none
And we play the best folk music
Under the moon or sun
And it's whip, whip
Alot of record labels been trying to get the bacon
By making a brother into something he is not and
You're better of and dammer on a farm picking cotton
got my spine smothered
But I'll be fine brother - my mind hovers
above all you jive suckers wishin, that's word to my mother
You throw a shot at me, I'm
known to try and seek the light
Standing for truth when others would rather
Stay blinded being misguided chasing fruitless lies
Being 2Ru3 in life ain't
went from ashy elbows, to loungin on Melrose
Stayin in the best suites for weeks
In (?) sheets, alone while you cryin at home
By the phone, hopin I'll
the moonshine
Triple X Vin Diesel
Ruthless then bust like twisters
The mission box cutter
Undercover brothers get smothered like Sally
Alright pally, don't
thought I better get to her before
Other guys start to notice she was fly, had a brother goin wild
Tryna leave the club with the future mother of my child
Me and Billy Joe Taylor joined each other at the hip
I loved him like the brother I never had
He was my go-to-guy on 3rd and 10, made me look good
One and one and one is three and you and me is all I need
Singing songs, drawing cocks, picking locks to locked doors
Find deflated hearts, and pump
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