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better by the view 22 Chainz like I'm Slick Rick Chilling with thick bitch And we finna get low Yeah I'm tryna dig shit Uncle Luke n Mac Dre yeah I'm
Too Damn Hype Too Damn Hype Too Damn Hype Too Damn Hype (How y'all feel out there?) --> Run (oh yeah!) (How y'all feel out there?) --> Run (oh
only notice it if it's potent Bottle of Perignon, we can go kick it by the ocean Get in between your legs Join roaches and ashes all in your bed You
"I remember, like, when the party was ending" "My mom was on the way to pick us up" (Hey Rick) "And she got into a fucking car crash" When I looked
bitches I can't understand why none these niggas fuck with me The T T R E What we rep muddy Nation I don't even gotta say shit Seen a couple bad bitches By
du vert Gilets jaunes et uniformes bleus ça fait des faits divers Entre eux et nous y'a pas un pet' d'idylle On est Springfield eux c'est ces connards
Yo, I go by the name (I'm yo' Pusha) of Pharrell from the Neptunes And I just wanna let y'all know (I'm yo' Pusha) The world is about to feel
du vert Gilets jaunes et uniformes bleus ça fait des faits divers Entre eux et nous y'a pas un pet' d'idylle On est Springfield eux c'est ces connards
WoodsMadeTheBeatGoCrazy YEAH Bad bitch for me it's in me Mr. Put it on it's on me Why my heart so lonely You niggas want beef, it's Lawrys Drop top
just wouldn't fold, yea Used to second guess myself into a depressive state Days went by where I felt like I was never sane All this overthinking man
up rick and morty With your shawty in the party And i do not pop molly In your face with my 40 Got a glock by my dick Got a blade on my side Talk down
hips Shake they rumps, bass thump Believin they could fly by the way you jump, player, uhh Hip-Hop mayor, fat rhyme sayer From the Boogie Down
Paintin' on the boy like I'm Bob Ross Big Boss, yeah, call me Rick Ross Locked up just like a dreadlock Hunnid points, yeah, that's a headshot Down
can't stop choughin' Feel like rick My friends dead I Keep on Walking All dem cards Stacked against me I still bet And I win You know why, it ain't luck
Forty on my hip, lil bitch this ain't no Smith and Wesson 14 on this bitch he cooking he don't give a fuck, he reckless Springfield on my body yeah I
Title: Far Below Words & Music by: Rick Denzien He says pass me that cigarette This picture is worn but they sure look cute Pretty little ones,
I'm on my shit, I'm in my zone, Lil' bitch ain't expect me to pop my shit all by my own She tammat rick i wan have sex witchu Bitch, leave me alone,
brown paper bag money This for my strippers getting black plastic bag money We're talking that bad money, that I.R.S can tax money you dig me [Rick
on that new shit who's this? "LEE RICKS" Get on that new shit who's this? "LEE RICKS" Get on that new shit who's this? LR u bet it is wild as a 26 smoove
restaurant in town We want caviar and lobster tails, both by candlelight and Don Perignon I said yeah right Y'all must be crazy, and Jeff said you know I
front of Big Lou's, y'all chill! We got Big JuJu, my man Joe Black main Slick Rick is on the block We gon' get ill for y'all one time Money earnin
attention Magazine got extension Pistol blow like a saxophone that Springfield Lisa Simpson Off the chain ain't no lynchin’ “Man why you always talk gun
I got a Springfield 9 don't do the kickback on them 45s Connected yea I fuck with the mafia like I'm shoreline Man life be getting crazy people fake
the candlelight Body after fuckin' body and you know Rick readin' my Miranda rights I'm goin' on vacation now, hope next time, y'all plan it right 'Cause you
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