Lyrics:
music that isnt
I was just making it clap to Wacka Flacka last Christmas
Clap for a nigga wit her rappin' ass
Nobody know if tomorrow promised live
(that's facts)
Comin' up, I was on reckless shit
I was tryna see niggas dead that night (get murked here)
I was going hard off of Webbie shit (fire)
of fifth and joy
And it's a boy
[crying]
[Slick Rick]
Baby mom, under wing, though if dressed, I could string
Line of cuties, though cling, don't want
endurance, I say how it is
Do it first, I show how it ends
Gucci shirt staks fifth
I know it hurts if it fits
Never act like I did
Hold it down for this shit
they thinking how we get this far?
We was just down by three and they thought we took a loss
They couldn't deem me like Earl Boykins, I'm sticking soft
the fifth amendment
We both criminals with bad intentions
They say time heals all
But if I can shortcut
My success, Corvettes by tomorrow
Why so sad?
That's just how I'm livin
And if you wanna f*ck wit me lil shawty then you must know
I'm the realest in my city
And when it's bout this money I go grab
hand it too
He gone catch it like a alley hoop
Made my revenue by the Avenue
I played the backfield but I was the one really fronting the work
If
scratch this
The ice cube link you bought, from the Jew for 80 G's
was only appraised at forty-two
Gazed upon by the eyes of multitude
of people, who
know it was a set-up.
So now I'm gonna get up.
Even if the FBI wants me to shut up.
But I've got 10 000 niggas strong.
They got everybody singin' my
Bizzy Bone (Chorus):
Stalkin gat-foo's, walkin' jack moves,
Ready to pap you if we have to, daily,
Stalkin gat-foo's, walkin' jack moves,
Ready
Baby I got the bag
You know I got the drip
You know I keep that thang
Tucked up by my hip
& all you bitches talk
Look how I plead the fifth
I know
was German, or even Italian. Pippo epitomized the identity of the enemy as something fluid and ambiguous — the destruction brought by
the fifth
My Momma stressing bout her baby think my life gon end
I had to tell her that I'm pressure it don't make no sense
Oh I was brought up by the dope
into the Chattahoochee
You Louis, I'll be Gucci
We was Webbie and Boosie with the low fade
Brush my hair for days, still ain't have no waves
Now we
C'mon ... Webbie
C'mon ... Trill Entertainment
bae ... bae
In my own state of mind
sittin here all alone thinkin bout that lady of mine
damn i did
Boosie arguing with Webbie and
It made me cry she said I had the best dick
Did she tell me lies?
My kids kinda ugly, had to ask her
"Is they really mine?"
feel like I'm mayweather
Beat yo ass
If yo come between me and my cheddar
Know you soft nigga
Like you was a shirt made of heather
4 Quarters bitch
Cause
[Chorus: Bizzy]
Stalkin' gat fools walking jack moves
Ready ta pap you if we have to daily,
Stalkin' gat fools walking jack moves
Ready ta pap
What if a brick was only just a misdemeanor?
What if Manhattan was hit by Hurricane Katrina?
What if a black man was the one controlling Fema?
What if
that
You know what I said by that
I ain't got to go further
And if anybody don't understand that then god be with them
Go look up the history
Go look up
if?
I mean, that's a big question, right?
If "if" was a fifth, we'd all be fucked up
But what I really wanna know is:
What if?
(What if?)
We had
the middle of the day in The Bahamas/
Okay I'm trippin' on ya, but can you really blame me?
If I let you pass me by, you would've thought I was crazy,
Look
these bags, bitch
I'm mailin' these (yeah, they gone)
Ninth grade, I was wearin' Fendi
They was failin' me (Fendi'd down)
Talkin' ass bitch act like Wendy
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