Lyrics:
production's tight
Sometimes I might catch a severe case of writer's block
But by the end of the day you'll be on my jock
My name's malik my hobby's putting
One by one, they will fall
Execute, conquer all
Threat on earth, body alive
Non convert, unholy cry
Inconcievable reason to flee
Bloodline
And drops a hit album, hit video, hit single every year
From your eye drops a tear
I don't play that shit, I play that hit
Your whole gangsta image is
I knew you was jealous from the day that I met you
I upset you, 'cause I get respect, I bet you
I'm even liked better by your niece and nephew
finance, yes
But the question is, will I let that shit define me, no
I was brought up by the right people
High school mates were the grand opening
Though my
It's the return, East Atlanta, Santa!
Off the wall, off the chain
Off the top, I'm off the leash
So many freaks coming by the spot
Had to move,
on my dog
We the truth by far
Young GOAT, way 'fore Earl Manigault in that park
Now it's prime only 'fore you hit that heart
I built a penthouse in
Rebel, renegade, must stay paid
Not by financial aid, but a raid of hits
Causing me to take long trips
I'm the original teacher of this type of style
renegade, must stay paid
Not by financial aid, but a raid of hits
Causing me to take long trips
I'm the original teacher of this type of style
Rockin'
paid
Not by financial aid, but a raid of hits
Causing me to take long trips
I'm the original teacher of this type of style
Rockin' off-beat with
What do I say
Say whatever the heck you want
Be on beat stay on beat
Oh my GOD
Yo here I go
Hey yo I don't know any words
My GOD
Play the Album
Many people had the nerve to think we would end the trend
With Criminal Minded, an album which is only ten
Funky, funky, funky, funky, funky hit
Man, take another hit breathe out
In a zone blowing smoke out a glass teapot
I?m chillin at home on some solo shit
I love piece and when its quiet, I
rapper about to blow
But his album came, and it was not good
I think it went lead or double copper-wood
So the silly little fans, they were misled
By
So damn tough
So - damn - tough
Everywhere we go downtown or to a show
We have two necessities
Charlie Mack and our limo
He's feared by suckers
I been so focused
I might drop an album a week man
Fuck all these rappers
I eat what I kill
And I'm killing these beats
You know how I give it up
I followed your rules
A willing fool
Branded by shame
My soul suffers from your hostile ways
I bear so many scars, hit me hard
Time to change
[Too $hort]
Album number 12
Short Dogg still in the house
I ain't going back into retirement
Life is
Anything is possible try hard
It ain't
(okay)
To his album we ride we so mob (okay, yeah)
I throw lives and lowest to live
For my loaf of bread the people's player
I did what the culture
pop style for 30 hours, then let him repeat
Now, you poppin' up with the jokes, I'm dead, I'm asleep
I just left from over by y'all puttin' pen
screw and common knew
We had bitches by the dozens "huh" we fuckin' cousins
You can throw ya middle finger if ya feel me loc
A nigga just got paid
yeah, yeah
I just hit up the drive-thru
yeah
fucking around near the bayou
yeah
the first time I laid my eyes on you
yeah
guess what it is time
Rebel, renegade, must stay paid
Not by financial aid, but the break of hits
Causing me to take long trips
I'm the original, teacher of this type
else)
Fuck arguing and harvesting the feelings, yo, I'd rather be by my fucking self
(Self, self, self, self)
'Til about two AM And I call back and I
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