Lyrics:
I got the King Kong of ping pong
The girl from with a huge dong
Black mamba cracking the whips
And the queen of the swords with
A blade on her lips
Jungle, the Brothers, the Brothers)
De La Soul, from the soul
Black medallions, no gold
Hangin' out with Pos, hangin' out with Mase
Buddy, Buddy,
Jungle, the Brothers, the Brothers)
De La Soul, from the soul
Black medallions, no gold
Hangin' out with Pos, hangin' out with Mase
Buddy, Buddy,
mean those that been since the beginnin'
(Cause some of y'all cut out when it started rainin')
Now check me at the movies I'm rollin' like Black Man
I
the reasons why you feel off, keel over
Talking bout hats and shoes, bruises, black and blues
That'll have to do pig, another trussed up new kid
Never trust
moanin, rippin' scales like
Uh huh, uh huh
I said I see you out here
Shakin' by yourself
Lookin' lonely
She said my girl's stepped
But my drink a be my
whole Bad Boy shit, we come to bring it to y'all niggas
Me, B.I., Puff, Lox, whoever, Black Rob
If you wanna dance, we dance (come on)
Now trick
whole Bad Boy shit, we come to bring it to y'all niggas
Me, B.I., Puff, Lox, whoever, Black Rob
If you wanna dance, we dance (come on)
Now trick
out there
And I'm packing, long dick swinging
Swinging to my knees, tropic thunderstorm
Selling DVD's releases, releases
Never need a feature
They
flow and blow
Puerto Rico Southside Latin you're feed pattern
Black people mingle white people buy my single
Bingo bangle let go my
Game would say
"Hi!"s name in that manner
Many years went by
Still no legitimate answer
Anyway, I put out a mixtape in 12th grade
Hub City threat, minor
the coppers
Cuff my hands to the bed stand
Cose she wanna play cops and robbers
I know this yattie is a freak
While biting my lips with her teeth
But see this
through
And my rims way bigger than yours
Red truck, blue truck, green truck, black truck
Suburban, Excursion, that Tahoe, that 'llac truck
F**k it
u papi, gotta have it
The way u lickin ur lips u got a habit
I said mami, I know u want me
I see ur lips downstairs, I hear em talkin
It says I'm
Yo, shout out to everybody that worked on the album
You feel me, son? Yo, shouts out to Ty Dollas
Shouts out to Hodgy Daddies, shouts out to Left
As I battle reality; I'm Thirty and outside
Man if I battle reality, I'm thirty-ing outside
Back out of nowhere like rain in the sky
Supply
over the future I'll extinguish tonight
Cower under your chair, deafened by your own screams
I'll erase your existence out of indifferent spite
Got you counting from on to ten
And by the time you get up to nine, your ass is left behind
Cause you can't mess with the lyrical master rhymes
Send
Look out! You musta got hit with some bullshit!
Yo, where at?
Smack dab across your lips, can you talk?
Ahm ahh ill uhh ahm no em no menna no vat
can puff
But you aint comin in
Not by the hair on
My chinny chin
Off a bean wit my nigga
Black Kenn
Walk with a lean
And a clean ass grin
Swerve round
ee-yar)
There's a Chinese man trying hard to flog you moody DVDs
You know? You've seen the film, it's black and white, it's got no sound
And a man's head
pocahontas
And girls shake it but naked
While we throwing thousands
Fancy huh
Oh you black and fancy huh
Yeah I can tell
By the way you get
Your hair and nails
You can be mad at me, tell me I was born to quit
I was checking gold (gold, gold)
Or you could just freak with me
Said it again, let the numbers
The prince is back
May day, trey day
Mr Thanksgivin'
Street anthem
DJ drama
So here we go with this again
Running at them lips again
Yelling
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