Lyrics:
said
And lips are craving to be fed
Butter's not good enough for bread
When you come through
I smelled your breath and it was
Sweet as berries
the charms?
Got me feelin real pimpish
Feelin real pimpish
Got me feelin real pimpish
Big wheels on the ride
Got me feelin real pimpish
Peanut butter all inside
basements making bombs
I'm the most
I suppose
You couldn't possibly butter my toast
All my goth chicks writin' prose
With my fingers in your nose
I'm
won't even crash
I'm sayin, niggaz don't fuck no mo', all we get is head
Niggaz don't play with bread and butter, all we count is bread
My niggaz
man! yeah yeah
Yo man! I got a story from 1988, check it out
Sue, you got so much butter on your teeth
That when you brush your teeth you
Have to use
Yeah
Faut accepter d'faire des quettes-ma, des couplets d'merde
Parfois d'voir un re-frè s'butter au Xan par trois par terre
Personne te capte
BUTTERFLIES
Butterflies butter butter flies Butterflies
I just live with them in my stomach and my mind All the time
we're so much alike
our chromosomes alive and alert oh your alright
Glad i caught ya cuz yr such a kill
You feel like butter and your looks are for real
butter a scent on your hand]
Pound the love outta me, beat the love outta me
[catch me if you can, butter a scent on your hand]
wigs, whips, chains tied
And this is how we go to school
And know how to butter your bread
Travel to 80 miles high
Get shot down like a duck
And show me how to dig my hole
the return of the hip hop freaks
I want to do the nasty, I want to make you weak
Greg Nice:
Now five plus five equals ten
Jet black hair, butter
Half a cup of powdered sugar
One quarter teaspoon salt
One knife tip Turkish hash
Half a pound butter
One teaspoon vanilla-sugar
Half a pound
up this zig-zotic hot mama out by the Ville then
I'm talking top flight, high priced brown sugar
With the curly butter, thick hips and all
With
[ad libs and shouts for first 12 seconds]
[C-Rayz Walz]
see-Rayz, guns and butter!
Go back upstairs, eat your mac cheese and fishsticks
You not 50,
featuring Butter & Jeni Fujita
[Jeni Fujita]
Flash The Message...
[Forte' Verse 1]
Yo...You make me want to vomit
Yo
if you want some chocolate with your sugar,\
some cream with your coffee,
some butter with your scotch....
You can call it cocoa butter
Or you can
The V twizzy
Henny and weed dizzy
Chickens like who is he
Lenin sittin on tan butter
Shit I'm getting funny stares from my man mothers
Thousands grams
the evildoers abuse it and use it to take your soul
It's like putting fire to fake gold, it turn colors
And get duller than a bake roll with no butter
tablespoons of butter, half package of frozen peas
Fresh if preferred, salt and pepper, to your own taste
Here are the directions, follow closely
Fry the beef
play me close like butter play toast
From the Mississippi down to the East Coast
Condos in Queens, indo for weeks
Sold-out seats to hear Biggie Smalls
breakfast on the low
Tell no bro
Tell no one
Chosen one
Peanut butter jelly on your womb
Peanut butter jelly in your tomb
Bury me in there
Hybernating bear
I
feeling jumpy, I'm not with the antics
AMG seats look like a peanut butter sandwich
Ramen noodles and bologna, that's a county jail manwhich
Good under
sorrow
But the game still cuts like summer
Us under trees like butter
Spread out knees, new colours
Think of how you said my name
Think of how we
A blu-lu-lup
Why mis a come here child
A blu-lu-lup
The answer dear me go a shop
We go buy one pound of butter
The ?
Pound of ? and one pound of butter
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