Lyrics:
two-door belong in an expo
It's red like a new jar of RAGÚ
I'm sittin' on a plane, but not by you
My window seat, Erykah Badu
You know I can't tell
phone
He ain't never pick up
Dump passin' by through the north
For the pick-up drownin' wit' a Glock
Everybody gettin' shook up
In Jail, at the table
I
tendency
I am Plug One
I'm nineteen years young
I love peace
Well, at least
I think we need some
I'm Q-Tip, y'all
3 Feet produced by Prince Paul
my person
By stating I'm darkly packed
I know this, so, I point at Q-Tip
And he states, "Black is Black"
Mirror, mirror on the wall
Shovel
my person
By stating I'm darkly packed
I know this, so, I point at Q-Tip
And he states, "Black is Black"
Mirror, mirror on the wall
Shovel
than before
When I was shooting up doors in Baltimore, try'na score
Nappy born hustla, the Hennessey guzala
I been a-black-a-mothafucka
Don't make me
copped on those calicos
Keep shittin, with ziplocks of that cali dro'
Keep hittin, and shift blocks for that cali dough
Keep gettin, my tip rocked by
calicos
Keep shittin, with ziplocks of that cali dro'
Keep hittin, and shift blocks for that cali dough
Keep gettin, my tip rocked by them cali hoes
It's
to cover I sum it up in a train ride
Boost my skill like nitrous
Too defined with it you take two to find it
By the wayside, by the baseline
Cover to cover I
raise up in the stack
Schoolin', I'm ready to feel pain bet you ass
Will be fillin on the
Foul type, then you say "Hi!" when I pass by
A nigga tryna act
this far can't give up now
Ridin' this road til the road runs out
Doin' all I can but still barely gettin' by
Waitin' on the good to come from the Hard
alright
Humongous ass, I punched the gas
And my speed racer go fast, super-endurance
Souped up with a kit, high-performance
Gettin' scratched off
birth to my first rhyme, got stopped by the cops wit their gun up
Thought I knew it all, didn't know shit
Drinkin' liquor, smokin' weed to the roach clip
Got bread no wonder me and my soldiers break down
Too many snakes in the grass I'd rather die instead of a takedown
Yeah
I got the juice
Run up a check
in a river
Dead by a trigga thinkin he Schwarzenegger
Fools don't take him I took him across the liver
Keep Lloyd line on my stomach from
Oh, let me apply the pressure, ayy
Start off 'fore we end up gettin' march on
Your mark, get set, ready, gunshot
I put my hands in the air so you
the tone of beats and poems
Polo's headphones becomes a skull and crossbones
Pull out your Q tips clean out the earwax
If you're still hard of hearing,
that's how we live up in the Bridge
You just sit scared cock back the gat then hit a nigga like a bid
25 naw kid you gettin' life
Forever burnin' in hell
' cheese, gettin' fetty
I know killers by the boatload Pile bodies up by the boatload
Fuck all that talkin', nigga, get a steppin' Blue is you red, nigga,
told me he'll pull up on me with truck of Haze
The last scene I was last seen in the Maserati that was matte green with the flat screens
And I zoom by
RIDE,RIDE,RIDE,RIDE
RIDE
Got em all DOA
Look up like god what have I done
(Huh)
I'ma need least a K
To get be out the bed by 1
(Huh)
Ima need least a day
To sign
nose for ya
If you my bros, then I got hos for ya
I got what you need, I do the most for ya
Look at myself like Q-Tip
Spark it pull it and blow it and do
Q-tips,
If she wanna ball i'll teach her how to work my pool stick,
DAM, I-be a player yeah i'm ruthless,
H-P-V- squared yeah i'm too sick,
M-c's beware
limbo
Slicin' I'm feelin' like Kimbo
Forces is new so I tip toe, hit up the plug tell em mandame cinco
Eatin' it up like a bistro fucked the bitch twice
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