Lyrics:
on me
Ride the track like a train, you conduct(can duck) the D
Put you close, go deep, make ya curl your feet
Make a tap, it's a wrap, like a Swisha Sweet
This ain't beastmode boy I'm a creature
You can hear the animal that
Is coming thru the speakers
Track with the wild out break bone features
Trunk
In a reality where, the sky is grey and clouds loom over
Put your headphones on and replay the same tracks again
Under button eyes, my posters
that P
P-funk got me goin', ho, I'm blowin' on Montana pack
Blunt just put me under but that snizow put me back on track
Bustas blinded by my smoke,
a price
Put it all on the lines
Hope you don't roll snake eyes
Pride in your eyes
While you sign dotted lines
You don't know what the price is
But you
If you cruisin' up the boulevard in your car
Put it in park and let the Dogg spark, yeah baby
When I pull up to the stoplight, I gotta have a paper
dance that's more than real
Drink Brass Monkey here's how you feel
You put your left leg down, your right leg up
Tilt your head back let's finish
change
Just rib your ass up just to gut your pockets out
I heard Bill put two G's up for some folks
That they found in they house beat up and I don't
Chopping chopping that's a wrap
Dropping bombs like it's Iraq
On the track, I'll be driving by when all your tires flat
This has started as a metaphor
Beat holding steady
Flow so heavy
This is light work
Y'all ain't ready
Y'all ain't ready
Beat holding steady
Flow so heavy
This is light work
Y'all
yeah, yeah, uh
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Alright, when should I start?
Just any time?
Listen,
Don't got to tell me you did it
Way you catch light it your
me to you
Have yourself a merry little Christmas
Let your heart be light
Have yourself a merry little Christmas
And put your troubles out of sight
the vibrate, before the phone rang
When they hear Zah on the track, you know he going spazz
And I was the one from our side, to put us on the map
Now we in
here(????) It?s the cops!
EUBANGDERE
Put your clothes on, Limey!
LIMEY
It?s the light and the viewers not turned on.
KWIRK
Standby for new
bitten so stop it
Type shit that can't be re-written on copy
By kinko, kodak, fuji films
Kin-folk know that groovy hymns
Spit by him'll put the gospel
that’ll
Cut yo ass up whether it be tracks or verses
Chains or purses
Them the type of niggas that’ll make you stop
True assassins hold your glass up
Them's
your last stop
This is my plot
Ima rise in stock
This track is banging watts
Knock em out of their socks
Ima put them on the spot
Their heads gonna bop
in front of a Muslim
I'll battle you and your cousin
It's the beef for black attack
When I, yes, quick to subtract the wack
When I go from track
yourself, be free
Respect yourself
Change your mind
Respect yourself
Don't be blind
Respect yourself
And you will see the light
Respect yourself
And you will
drilling shit is getting old
They tell me I lie? Put that on your soul
When I unleash the devil your will your cards fold
I got the winning hand
I still get
Sometimes I look up in the sky
And watch the planes fly by yea
Are they happy? Are they sad? Is it the Final Destination? Put the pin up on the map
Let me tell y'all something that you might not know
All you rappers dropping tracks, will not ever blow
Claiming Jersey is your home but it really
highness, we
The dynasty, no one else been high as we
When you speak on me, you speaking to your highness, we
God blessed me and put me in position to hand
like
You feel like you got a chip on your shoulder
Until you finally get the memo, you will always feel that way
Why God, why God do I gotta suffer?
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