Lyrics:
who's playin'
This new album produced by Swizz Beats, Pharrell, and Timbaland
Correction again, this album is executive produced by the Dragon, Pharrell
finden den Shit nicht witzig."
Fick dich, Bitch - chill, Bitch, Mann, alles hier killt mich
Außerdem bin ich nicht Deutschlands Will Smith
Ich will's
Waffenlauf
Und die Szene geht in Flammen auf wie 'n Drachenmaul (Apocalyptic)
Lilane zählen, will nur Lilane zählen
Ich schwöre, niemals im Leben Peace mit
Smith
Who may have deflowered my west indies
Now Homer Simpson my John Huey!
Lewis Clark my morning news!
Marcellus Wallace my alopecia!
Then Will Smith
And expect them not to know what a woman's clitoris is
Of course they're gonna know what intercourse is
By the time they hit fourth grade
They've got
And it go a little something like this
Hit it
Been tryna claim things I haven't earned, honest, man
Stz and Spenny Almost is on this jam
What kid?
smack like a will Smith think piece
He be the greatest since Daedalus
The latest hits coming from Q with the Bronze made assist
You niggas cornier than
the grass
Rats and scalywags in the bushes
They still ain't on the album, no matter what button saques pushes
Y'all niggas on some bullshit
I'm on point like
the funkadelic relic
(bring in the funk baby, bring it in, bring it)
James Todd Smith and nine years old
When Sugarhill was in control
I'm listenin'
just want to spit man I don't need this grief
[VERSE TWO]
[HOST]
I mean you got Will smith and jada Beck's and posh,
J-low and Ben aflet, 50 and vivica
will hit you, boy
Your nobody so no one will miss you
Queens start to kickin' it's too
Much to get through
Leave a nigga leakin' like an Indian ritual
and grilling
If you really got a problem then fuck however you feeling
Wake up in the morning, hit my phone like hello
Rare, Smithsonian, Smith like Willow
Real
their Remington
The youth of Kingston
Won't leave their Magnum
pistol pistol
Poor Jill she was a spill
she got hit by a stray shot
their Remington
The youth of Kingston
Won't leave their Magnum
pistol pistol
Poor Jill she was a spill
she got hit by a stray shot
As God as my witness, this Will Smith spit real shit
I'mma be that, CG busy gettin', where the weed at?
Bought your girl some new kneepads
You're
records than Will Smith
Can't call this a comeback, I run rap, the fuck is y'all sayin?
Five million I done that, and I come back, to do it again (uh-huh)
the East coast fuck took it from me
Fourth album still Jay still spittin that real shit
Volume 3 still sold more records than Will Smith
Can't call this
records than Will Smith
Can't call this a comeback, I run rap, the fuck is y'all sayin?
Five million I done that, and I come back, to do it again (uh-huh)
the shooting
Cops heard the shots, shit's hot 'cause they're pursuing
But it's my stomping groung where herds get blown down
Think I'm gettin caught by
Long ago, I seen this honey walk by
I was looking at her but not in the eyes
She’s was looking at me and then by surprise
She took my hand and said
always hit my target so
You better duck and scram
Two Nina's and to whoever think
A 9 will miss
(anonymous) don't know who the fuck I am!
Boy you was
and Chronic stood as basically all that I would
Ever listen to and when I bought my first Onxy album, I started bumpin' them
Naught By Nature, Mobb Deep
will be televised
This album has been in the
Making a quarter century
Born to bless the beat and
Rap over recorded melody
I knew the truth since I
Was
fall.
Down will come the monkey, banana clip, and all.
Splat, (buck, buck, buck) it's all over wit'.
Another plan O.D.'ed over my war hit.
The way I'm
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