Lyrics:
When I come back, that's it
You see a flash in the sky, it's that nigga, I
When I land, you wack niggas die
And your casket is your last hit
You wack
Hmm
New Patek on my wrist
White diamonds, them shits hit pink
I'm ready
New Patek on my wrist (yeah)
White diamonds and them shits hit pink
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
folded shit they played in Birdbox
Break the news a rappers body all on k cal 9
On Sylvia Lopez I stay with the K Cali nine
I go viral with the views how
Since9ine6ix Verse:
Maneuver like uber moving through traffic
Pursue the loot and I stash it, Usually in the mattress
Used to eluding casket, Be
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
the 916
Where slime don't stick
Only time you get some shine is when the 9 don't miss
Only time we get some fun is when we try sumn slick
His baby momma hit
they rags up
Make them hit them switches up
They say album gang bang with some Nuts
Yo Dre yo homie turn this chronic Up (Hell Yeah)
I hit the switch no
Rollin on blunts, niggaz call it swisher sweets
I got birds 16-5, a muthafuckin key
Fool, when ya hit me, it's 18-5
I gotta tax em 2 g's just for takin
scriptures to get here
I'd love to tell you I'm the funniest person ever lived, but I ain't
Richard Pryor got that. I'd love to tell you I'm the greatest
And you
Are an abandoned church
The rich did this
Turned things to shit
With Michael and Jannet
And all your greatest hits
Loved by Russians
to the West, and this ain't The Life of Pablo
Stay on that bullshit it's gon' start to feel like Chicago
Keep it one hunnid, you Nicki Minaj sideshow
Still
shit on your new album or what?
Yeah, I'm gonna kick some of that shit
But ah, partner I don't even fuck with the nine no more half
Man don't you
Make'm forefeit and I'm porshin six hundred horses
Nine eleven, somebody call'em
Kemba Walker cross 'em over, somebody fallin'
Jump back, I hit
the music in they ears, they would have lost it
The seventh album by a musician they both revered
First time this planet heard it, let's call it a world
voodoo science
In front of 20 ft. bonfires lookin' skyward
Calculating May 5 2000 the nine planets'll be in alignment
The arrival of the prophet
Young Hawk
IA
Welcome to my album
The Statement
I grew up with outta mother fuckin dime
Eating cheap food every night
Momma busted ass she workin
They
'boutta hit this muhfuckin' album
(Oh oh-Oh, yeah yeah yeah yeah, whoa)
Yeah-Yeah-Yeah-Yeah
I done seen a lot of things, yeah yeah
Nowadays, sit
Yeah
This the mufucking
This the last song for this goddamn album bruh
We done been working at this shit for
For fucking ever
What the fuck nigga
Aye
In today's music news, the ever controversial Tupac Shakur has
Just released another album under the alias Makaveli
Music insiders are running wild
confused
The last album raised the bar, but this gon' tear off the roof
Read all about it, get your fix in, I'm independent
Ain't got a deal, but I can tell
it today I should (Die!)
[Royce Da 5'9"]
Damn, right after one quick summer
Am I Young MC or a one-hit wonder?
Is it a following that supports me
well
We are some partying mothafuckas"
Tired of these rappers
Tired of these jackers
I'm tired of these dances
By these fucking backpackers
And I'm sick
Tired of these rappers, tired of these jackers
I'm tired of these dances by these fuckin' backpackers
And I'm sick of all these hipsters, I'm sick
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