Lyrics:
make money money
Don't make profits
Boogie boogie
I just want to give you nook
Noogie noggie
Turn around let me see how you would
Do me Do me
You can hate it but face it B.I.G. and 2Pac just ain't around
Everywhere you go, there I go, I'm 50 Cent
Ghetto star by the bar I get you bent
You wanna
What I want you to do
(What I want you to do)
You'll find your wings
Learn how to fly
(Learn)
I'm rapping about diamonds, and cars, and money
Picture Me Rollin'
Mane I bet y'all brothers hatin
I'm on my grind
cnd I ain't worried bout no hater
I see the eyes on me
cll Eyes on Me
Like 2Pac
pager
You go find witness in a two trap conquest
They'll know it everywhere we wanna do this
You see, you gotta understand that things going cycle
a lick?"
I said, "Nah, we stuntin' together"
Ayy, stuntin' to- (flrr)
Fuck it, we stuntin' together (yeah)
How long you want it? Uh, forever, duh (we
Tipsy and I feel, good
Black dudes got big woods
Into it, I do it, I did it
If you really really want it then nigga stop frontin'
Ay boy you know I'm
Hope you're ready 'cause I'mma beat it up
Do you mind when I'mma had it? Know how to heat it up
I should, I should be the one, baby you gon' learn
it's worth I got the right net
Sittin' here excited by some shit that ain't write yet
No regret, live by a code you don't know 'bout
Y'all niggas
voice keeps comin like a STORM
Bass should it be let go, heck no
Want to be hard, cause you failed to be techno
Rugged, ripped and rough hittin like
and how
I want it bad and I want it now
We were born going faster than the limits allow
I wanna show you what I want you to do
Where and when and how
I
been here before)
I don't ever want to change
I'm fragile
I don't ever
Some of the people appointed to give an opinion
Never do get it
I want you
of
The record with you not really thinking what
The divide would be this is where my head
Was at when I left Miami then
I started thinking about how I
Didn't want
gotta spit it like Pac
I ain't got shit but I still feel good
Nigga can't take what a nigga don't got
Go hard in the paint, you can tell em post up
as fuck, all you see is red like a conservative
All the critics do is talk, I'm really not concerned with it
Hella tired and we can make your residency
a track
Learn to pick and shovel too and take my hammer
It'll do anything you tell it to"
John Henry's mammy had about a dozen babies
John Henry's pappy
was Diddy
When it came to the music then she got real picky
From New York, but preferred 2Pac over Biggie
No disrespect to Ms. Wallace, but she liked
me love in my sea
Cause I do know, Lord from you that
Just died, yeah
I saw that day, lost my mind
Lord, I'm fine, maybe in time
You'll want to be
anymore
I don't know how I'm meant to feel anymore
When do you think it will all become clear
'Cause I'm being taken over by the fear
Life's about
Thank you, thank you
Thank you, you're far too kind
Now can I get an encore, do you want more
Cookin' raw with the Brooklyn boy
So for one last
slow
And still twist your tongues up
Rock the house from night
Till the sun's up
Cause it relly ain't
How much you say
it's what you sy
I got no fuckin'
begging me
You know what you should've capped like 2pac with a glock
They're deadly, better not upset my thug mentality sucker
You know you done fucked
Daddy's long gone and he left you by ya lonesome
Thank the Lord for my kids, even if nobody else want 'em (left you all by yourself)
'Cause I think we can
Cracks in it, bet you morons didn't
Think I'd be back, did ya?
How 'bout that I'm somehow now back to the underdog
But no matter how loud that I bark,
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