Lyrics:
by the reigns because I know that I'm freaking
Well, I'm a funky skull and I'm a scorpio
And when I get my flow I'm dr on the go
So q-tip, what you
by the reigns because I know that I'm freaking
Well, I'm a funky skull and I'm a scorpio
And when I get my flow I'm dr on the go
So q-tip, what you
The F.A.H
You'll see why
Q.U
Double E.
N
Is the reason I must be myself
What else?
Well fame hasn't got me
Souped up
Selling out
Sloppy or poppy
on niggas' necks
Fuck your homie, his ass died, you come behind, you gettin' stretched
I was thuggin' by myself before I was ever with the gang
417, I'd be
get to this cash
Ain't no time to relax
Pushin' through the dirt
This on everything I have
So I'm makin' big moves
Still gettin that check (Gettin that
Well, it's mixed up confusion
From little Miss Intrusion by the back door
And she's been busted up and rolled out
Piled in, she's down and out,
motherfuckin' boy, Mr. Q-Tip
Loc back in the booth, sippin' goose and juice
And this time, bitch, I'm goin' for broke, still slangin' caine
Bagging weed, will
There ain't nothin' you can do
'Cept pull your drawers down (you got to)
Pull ya drawz down (you got to)
(What up, Dogg?)
I just left the weight room
Ya
I'm dealin' with too much stress
So I stay up on my p's and q's
And watch out for the G's and fools
'Cause the homies that I thought I had
See me
when I say that it's Deuce
Trust me when I say, all these bitches be mad fake
I ain't dabbin' up a doubter, you ain't gettin' no handshake
Better watch
Think I give a fuck about some silly bitch named Gore?
Yo PMRC, here we go, raw
Yo Tip, what's the matter? You ain't gettin' no dick?
You're bitchin'
that used to diss back in the day
Since I got my circle right been cashin' checks and gettin' paid
And I'm like hold up
But wait there's more shoutout
holidays
I passed up the rookies for surely, they book me, goin' to the max, no Holloway
I was with the sharks, not by the bay, I was makin' cake, you
Think I give a fuck about some silly bitch named Gore?
Yo PMRC, here we go, raw
Yo Tip, what's the matter? You ain't gettin' no dick?
You're bitchin'
is "The Villain"
My homey from the see-P-T, cold chillin
Now as time flies by I see the game gettin mo' reala
As I get mo' scrilla, can you dig it?
on
Let the cries out
Wave a whole chicken by his
Legs near the crotch smells
Sweating bullets in the tip
Blow torching his flesh
I seen his face melt
Drip
seventh sense
Diamonds gettin clearer I might need a whole second set
Gold by the pound load it up to my private jet
I just get the money make a flip
president
Gettin' off is the first order of business
Once I get in office
Second thing that'll make me happy's walkin' up to Uncle Sam
Naked, laughing,
Hurt by the die hard bare back feelin'
They got shook like kids from a sinnin'
Dwellin' all in your system
Killin' ya slooow
A real jacked up way
by gettin' by
Polish up all your flaws, you can't be fuckin' around
Finally made it to the majors, stealing bases of course
Giving bitches your money,
him by the reigns because I know that I'm freaking
Well, I'm a funky skull and I'm a scorpio
And when I get my flow I'm dr on the go
So q-tip, what
my ride and cold macked it
Yo Tip, I tell you man the devil's tryin it
But I'm goin to stay strong cause I ain't buyin' it
Tonight I'm taking Sherry
gettin' money, puttin' in work
I ain't kickin' back unless I'm shootin' the Drac
We pulled up at six with 200 rounds
We ain't even get through shootin'
virginity
Your jam is just a dreamin' MC scheme
gettin' crushed by a L.L. theme
somethin' like Shaft, put you in a cask', bo!
You little blood-clot
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