Lyrics:
rollin' them eyes and my major album is not even out yet
You bout to get fed in the bowl
Cause all you mother fuckers are just a house pet
I'm smackin'
demeanor is congruent
The haters?
They broke and they never wanted smoke
Yea their packs are some trash and their album was a joke
The truth?
I made it
need
No love, no love, no love in the streets
Yeah, shawty was the real MVP
I was chilling on the beach by myself, yeee
I was chilling by myself
Hold my hand
You can hit while they watch, boy
(So, 9:30?)
(I'll see you there)
(No, you hang up)
(You hang up)
Somethin' different about you
Fucked up Chingy's song
Afro-mother fuckin-man cant stand no mother fuckin Ying-Yang Twins
I think Lil John and the Eastside Boys is an ignorant,
Standing alone by the edge of a river
He's traded his life for a glass full of tears
The bargain was quick for one's life is less dearer
When
Lil Baby's baby mother got caught likin' that message (Jayda)
Soulja Boy the first rapper Kanye took off a track
On Drink Champs he told N.O.R
No Cap
No Cap
One Take
Took a little time to fix up
Bout to shake it up like a mixer
I'm all about the sex on the beach
I'm the top tier crop
of these rappers those are my sons
I ain't gone front
I don't pull stunts
I just pull up
I just pull up
I just pull up
Up
Yeah that boy he my enemy
He no
goes
They go to where it glows
While playing with the water hose
We're on the fifth album
Getting all that calcium
While hanging out with my old boy
a new set of laws
And we'll still break those
Get a new list of drugs, we will take those
Standing on the block in my b-boy pose
Nike sneakers on my feet
door, breathing off
Respirators for killing my best boy, haters
On permanent, hiatus as I skate
In the Maybach Benz, flier than Sanaa Lathan
Pumping
born in a hole, now I'm in control
(Yo, yo)
Bank boy deep is the way we roll
(We roll)
I'm mackin' for the punks
Talkin' the junk on the tracks
words are found
Let it be known that God's penmanship has been signed
With a language called love
That's why my breath is felt by the death
And while
Where you are
Where you are
Call me if you really wanna talk, mmm, mmm
Do you really wanna talk? Mmm, mmm
Yeah, yeah, now it's getting hot
Summer,
done told you niggas
Nine albums, stop fucking with me
I done told you niggas
The 9 on me, stop fucking with me
You niggas must got nine lives
9th
done told you niggas
Nine albums, stop fucking with me
I done told you niggas
The 9 on me, stop fucking with me
You niggas must got nine lives
9th
Pussy boy wanted beef with me over Galactic acquisition
Called his mistress over and put 10 inches on her forehead like Payton Manning
I'm a street
him Tyler O-Comma
I'm tryna ball like I was Domo Okonma but oh nada
Probably [?] boy I'm just rhyming
They saying bow, suck my genitals
Album cover
goes right
Steady trying to get to me but Im outta reach
Bitch gimme 50 G's and drop me on Palm Beach
HT BY I keep on counting these checks up
Castle-D boy, he's down with us
D.J. Red Alert, he's down with us
Robocop boy, he's down with us
Makin' funky music is a must
I'm number one.
People
And motherfolkin' caviar
He did a terrible thing, finally got away with it
I'm nervous, I'm nervous
Open a new chapter
Are you ready to be swallowed up by my
T on the mic, TopGunning
After your neck, checkin' respect, makin' you sweat
Rhyme Syndicate boy, in effect
The rap motivator, teacher, talker, night rhyme
can't cuff me 'cause I don't fuck with no cops
I'm going to the beach, I ain't bringing no sand
And I leave these boys standing with they dick in they
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