Lyrics:
the sexy singers that I wanna sex
I'd probably go to jail
For fuckin Patti Labelle
Ooh Regina Belle, she'd probably do me swell
Jasmine Guy was fly
a reflection of your heart. That words alone could never capture. When I write a Christmas song, it is almost always born from a moment in my life, inspired by
"Brown Sugar" by D'Angelo
In Los Angele's, like an Evangelist
I can introduce you to your maker
Bring you closer to nature
Ashes after they cremate you
indie records show up in a W-E-A box?
By saying your independent, you belittle the whole movement
Real emcee's work hard, ain't got investors to put out
About the drug thing
Should call this album "Nothing"
Said I'd amount to nothing
And I slip through the shadows
In the late night shots on shots like AI
to retake moments I'll make better
Hidden among the pages of your photo albums
I can replace these mistakes one by one with hot glue
Stand right there I'd
the green leaf, cloud up
We some gangsta's makin' money, never been a scrub
Whattchu know about sellin' dope?
But the only thing you good for now is droppin'
than happy hour
You set a new goal I've already climbed the ladder
Set a record that I've already shattered
You looking beat up there
Gotta mix before I
was unlocked
In the mix of writing these lyrics they would pile up
So I had to concentrate and set my lineup
Any little fault and I knew I'd act up
the sexy singers that I wanna sex
I'd probably go to jail
For fuckin Patti Labelle
Ooh Regina Belle, she'd probably do me swell
Jasmine Guy was fly
never be slayed or confined to a grave
Math key fade
What that means you were played
My exit was in the first Act
Covered up by authorities
Beguiled
'Babe, that's what I thought'
I'm ready to fucking go
Finna roast a bitch you already know
Make an album then I make my dough
I'm all the way up
on this album if my man's and them rise
[Method Man]
Now speed it up, uh
[Chorus 2X: Run]
Run really make ya wanna drop, drop
Now wanna make ya go live,
[Verse 1]
D.J. Doc you know he's down with us
D-Square, he's down with us
Keyboard Money Mike, is down with us
I.C.U., you know he's down with us
the norm
I'm gonna take the world by storm, just give this one listen more
If you ain't pick up what I said, you ain't really about it
This ain't slinging
up? It's me again
Scott La Rock, KRS, BDP again
Many people had the nerve to think that
We would end the trend with
Criminal Minded, an album which is
Bankroll got the bitches bad on the pole
Pull up to the club, I let it go let it go
They call me young Quavo throw
Young Quavo throw
We get ignorant in
up
Hunnit bands from the safe in your face, what'd you say?
Money dance, turn this shit into a nightclub
Ayy, yeah, fuck with me and get some
raw and all of your
Bars is baking soda'd up
Like having sex with a fractured
Pelvis you broke us fuck
You and got no chicken veggie store
I have four
I was scared to admit that I had failed again. During this time I struck up a friendship with a record producer that I had met networking,
hear the tracks that they would spit
I'd bet you they have the urge to pick up the pen
And try to be significantly different, just picture it
A bunch
myself
Pas capable de reach le next step, comme le top shelf
Avant d'aimer les autres, love yourself
J'suis underrated
Le seul drive-by t'as fait de ta
other New York rappers
Jay-Z of Hawaiian Soapy fame, Big Little whatever
And several other corny sounding motherf***ers
are understandably shaken up by
Okay, and who are you here to see?
Uh, Snoop Dogg? Says here Snoop D-o-g-g
Oh, yeah. He's right down the hall
First door to your right
Give him a knock
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