Lyrics:
back they put a knee up on your throat
So fuck a toast, always had a preference for a blunt approach
I Hammer home, hit the nail on the head like acetone
'em grown and then watch 'em lead
Let me proceed, bumpin' that that Californication, by the Red Hot
Fuck around and then hit 'em with a red dot
Y'all
Remember 19 album I remember every album
Every single time to unreleased I know it any hour
So don't ask me if I do cuz I saw close to every outcome
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
to reintroduce myself
My name is Hov (oh), H to the O-V
I used to move snowflakes by the O-Z
I guess even back then you can call me
CEO of the R-O-C, Hov
to reintroduce myself
My name is Hov (oh), H to the O-V
I used to move snowflakes by the O-Z
I guess even back then you can call me
CEO of the R-O-C, Hov
by the CIA or the industry
Know where black hands be on black Glocks
No back stabs or sad plots, we let them rot
1-800-Nas&Hit, don't call us with
Why you wanna be my Zanna? Why you wanna be my Zanna?
80k streams on an album by myself, started wvvy crew and I did that by myself
I remember 2017 all
All of this cuz Jim wouldn't sign you (All of this)
C'mon man, fuck a Tru-Life, he's a Tru Dyke
I think him and Bleek is enganged to each other
I
afraid to die
Just mad I left Big Jim alive
I know I should've never looked back
But you ain't gonna win a woman's heart like that
I never should've
so I'm wishin' you well
I'm back, grindin' hot and tuck in yo' tail
I'm back, soon as I hit da crowd gon' yell
I'm back, hotter than a nigga in hell
Train Without a Whistle
Written by Jon Randall and Jim McBride
You won?t ever see the danger
When you?re laying in the arms
Of that tall dark
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
to slip into a life that's easier
An attention span whittled away for years by social media
Then COVID hit that shit like a meteor
Procrastinated every
but, built up not that nice fighter
I'm the champ, but still I'm the number 1 contender
You the chump, more like the number 1 pretender
Don't call me by
yeah
Check it, uh
I guess I take it back to graduation
Got my degree but writin'
Songs was my fascination
I got a job installin' cable
Then I got
said I couldn't hit it sideways
I said I couldn't hit it sideways
Oh, just like sister ray said
Whip it on
Rosie and miss rayon
They're busy waitin' for
to be like too $hort" (scratched 4x)
Now back to the subject, my boy mc
Whatever you say, you can?t rap like me
Rappers like me make real hits
Machine Gun Kelly is as self-effacing as he
Is talented known also
By his real name Colson
Baker, MGK effortlessly defies
Easy categorization from
on the telephone
To tell her half of my head was gone
I just got hit by a great big brick
She says thanks for reminding me about that Maverick
Mm hmm, my
away so I snapped at her, back slapped her
She picked up a bat, like McGwuier for that matter
Hit me, I was back at her
Come home where I duck
I went from flat broke hit the plateau defacto
Could always rap though snuck in through the back door
Then I started spazzing for stacks though that
I went from flat broke hit the plateau defacto
Could always rap though snuck in through the back door
Then I started spazzing for stacks though that
fuckin' way
But here I am, workin' in the studio
And your album ain't out because you're movin' slow
By the time you make one I'll be on ten
Hit the studio
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