Lyrics:
I check to see how my albums doin' today.
The group L-M-F-A-O goes double platnium "HEYY".
I got a party man.
That's how I live so I take my
dollar bills
Peel on Ducatis and other four wheels
Write a book full of
Medicine and generate mills
Tour the album, only for more sales
Last name stoner,
give you power
Not for the intent to misuse your power"
If you wanna dance, you gotta play the band
People die by other hands
The innocent, the Ku Klux
Uh! Backwards!
c'mon! c'mon! c'mon! (c'mon!)
Oh no, struck by greased lightning
F'ed by the same last name, you know what?
China ain't never givin
and yo soul rise high
remember the DEAD don't die less they F*** WIT' I !!!
[Ja Rule]
N****z know who dope yo
S*** the flow is retched
And my gee
f***in` family a` mournin`
Plus all you itchy-b****y types can`t touch me
Frontin` like your hard
I`ll play your f***in` yard like a trussel
Chorus
[Chorus]
f*ck ho's and rock fake friends
f*ck fashion I set trends I
Don't front and I don't pretend
I'm just tryina do my thing
B-tek
First I'm
spells on me
And possess my soul,
Feel the human hate grow strong
Embrace this time... until it's gone
Take... this world by force
And kill the seed
Fall victim to your own contempt
The thought is killing you
No peace
Denied by destiny
Your fading away
I saw myself within you
Now all the love has
F-f-feel me
Feel me with your soul
Don't fuck with my mojo
Feel me with your soul
Don't fuck with my mojo
Feel me with your soul
Don't fuck with my
part
Do you understand to live, to lie by him
Is to share your soul, Lord knows, you gone die by him
I know you heard gun stories about John Wayne
still takin rappin for a joke
A passing hope, or a phase with the rope
Sometime I choke and try to believe
When I get challenged by a million MC's
I
death do you fuckin' part
Do you understand to live, to lie by him
Is to share your soul, Lord knows, you gone die by him
I know you heard gun stories
never seen
Stand in front of gate - open
I will take my life - for you
Attempted suicide - Satan
Murdered by my way - Father
Looking through your soul -
the kind of pain that
I wish this pain, would go away
Just gets all up in your heart, and in your soul
I wish this pain, would go away
The kind of pain
seat
You are what you eat
So what you eatin'
Same message to your mind
Be self defeatin'
Sick 'n' tired of bein' sick
And tired of bein' beaten
hold out
Almost every year the windows they stay rolled down
But it's gettin' kinda old yea it's gettin' old now
Change is good
For your soul
But yes you
the kind of pain that
I wish this pain, would go away
Just gets all up in your heart, and in your soul
I wish this pain, would go away
The kind of pain
Yes Mr. Big Shot
4 quarter down, two low clock
Buzz like a robot, no shock
Face in her pussy then lip lock
Good kush by the ziplock
Every time I
the window
Too many urkels on your team
Thats why your Winslow i sold my soul to the
Devil thats a crappy deal
Least it came with a few
Toys like a happy meal
ain't got nothing to do with rap
Check the facts, expose those cats
Who pose as heroes and take advantage of blacks
Your government's gangster, so cut
provided by Cookin' Soul (Uh, huh)
Came in this game from out of
Nowhere and I took control
(I took shit over, nigga) rockin' my jewels
I'm goin' to see one
Heard your album my best of missed it
Best that ever did it,
Papoose is the definition.
[Chorus]
You're not allowed in our band
You smoked too much weed
When you lost your girlfriend
Your not allowed in our band
You cant play the f scale in
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