Lyrics:
multiplied by eleven is thirty-three,
Four multiplied by eleven is forty-four,
Five multiplied by eleven is fifty-five,
Six multiplied by eleven is sixty-six,
abuse it
Too many mc's, just emcee
So their longevity, is based on an uncle tom
At the record company
Lesson four sell your image, never sell a record
Daz we about to fry niggas like fries
And separate them by five's and light up the skies
Crip that D P, Kurupt
Dippin' and I'm out, put a dick in
experiments
Theoretical observances and critical procedures, cool
to seventy-seven Kelvins, by submerging, steel cylinders
Secure capacitated it in
5, no less than 4 on a slow day, call Vegas and bet
By the way, if you a winner, I'm the one you should be with Hit J
Tell them n***** to bet against
nothing , getting played by the niggas getting head, for the
Change,
My lead wanta spray and your dead with decay, they ain't ready for the raidpay heavy
ALL OUT IN THE NUMBERS
(Words and Music by Armin Sabol, Published by Shiva Songs Edition)
THEY SAY THAT ONE’S THE BEGINNING AND THE VERY END
TWO IS
must be narcoleptic
4. For the record body you then I body the record
5. & I yes I reckon it’s hard work & solid connections
6. Not to mention a lil
I'm goin' buy me the fall
And get a Myspace lick (yeah)
You know how many hits Myspace gets (yeah)
Man it's like I'm hurting feelings just by telling
The Jimmy Buffer Song
David Allen Coe
Prelude:
This song is for all the people that's been reviewing our records and say we sound a lot like Jimmy
Aw, this is four jiggling balls in
Your mouth all day everyday
Ay you tuned into a fuck
What you hear radio where
You can stick a dick in your ear
Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one
On and poppin' she mad marketing
Attitude like we arguing
With her by my side bring glitter
life?) yeah
Everybody talk about Pac's life (outlaw, outlaw, yeah)
Started with five shots, niggas plottin' to kill em'
Never figured that, that same
infected by devils
My father would come home, he would forget about the killings
He wasn't scared of the Shogun, but the shogun was scared of him
Maybe
Yeah, this the Shady Records mixtape (yeah)
Invasion, mixed by the Evil Genius (50 Cent, Lloyd Banks, Tony Yayo)
G-Unit
This rap shit plays
Three Six Nine Four Four One Eight
Inner signals guide let the doubts abate
Whoa let's flow
Five Five Three Two Seven Eight Nine
Balance brings peace
to write a will, for real
I couldn't picture being gone lying still I was ill
But, thats just how I feel
Got me like one two three four five, I just wanna
know? Nothing slides
Word up it's murder
Dead or alive
My skills are, and will remain
Ahead of you guys
And ain't nothing gon' change that
Dead or alive
sound just like a CD
We don't lip-sync, we go all live
On stage, I bring about four or five
That's D-Nice, Sydney, and Melodie
And myself,
in my cargo
I get dope by the car load
I got whips, no car note
I got whips, no slave
All my cribs got maids
All my cribs like a maze
Shit so
Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one
On and poppin' she mad marketing
Attitude like we arguing
With her by my side bring glitter
sweating like
I ran a fucking lap
Customers on hold stressing they
Keep coming back
3 6 5 2 4 7 I got Jumbo Jacks
Would you like your cheese with that
Yeah I
out the gym, trap house jump like LeBron
It's 22-5 for the B, and 11-5 for the Solange
Call a 16 Montana, 8 a Steve Young, and 4 a Brett Favre
My plug
the nuts
A .45 that'll light niggas up and this 4-5 high make me not give a fuck
Niggas know what I'm about out here (here)
I don't toot my own horn
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