Lyrics:
got me framded!"
They called me the Reverend when I entered the Church unstained;
My employers have changed but the name has remained.
It all began
Yeah, this one's dedicated, to my grandmother, and your grandmother
It's all love, let's not forget who raised us, word up
Big Mama, my
Dr.Dre on the Chronic
Tell him how real he is or how high I am
Or how I would kill for him for him to know it
I cried plenty tears, my daddy got a bad
we got it goin' on
Hi my names trilla
I come from Birmingham like Sturridge
Nobody paved my way it took courage
Ever since Westwood man a been worried
from that
I put everything in my music man I can't depart from that
I'm sorry it's apart of me living life upon the streets
I tried to step away but
paying my rent every day in the tower of song
I said to Hank Williams, "How lonely does it get?"
Hank Williams hasn't answered yet
But I hear him
In cuttin' and haulin' in frost and in snow
We're up against troubles that few people know
It's only by courage and patience and grit
And eatin'
a new route
You can't take anything back and you can't erase your mistakes
I got the food on my plate its here from a animatronic buffet
Feed all of them
but instrumentals killing me
I got rap in my blood like plasma
Now I'm fucking flowing underground like magma
Soon I'm blowing up like Vesuvius in Italy
check it out check it out
I got my man Shel Rumble in the house
I got my man Harry O in the house
I got my man Rock A Lot in the house
I got angels watchin' me from the other side
When it comes to being true, at least true to me
One thing I found, one thing I found
Oh no you
every night,
Paid attention that's right
Got advice that I took in hopes that it'd better my life
I conditioned myself, when I looked in the rear view, I
you like what I do to these instrumentals
Step by step, I'll teach you manners, I'll change your diapers
I'll also teach you how to deal with anger
me why I rock so well
I'm Big Bank, I got clientele
And from the time I was only six years old
I never forgot what I was told
It was the best
got it
(brothers and sisters)
Verse One: Booty Brown
Ya mom is so fat (how fat is she?)
Ya mama is so big and fat that she can get busy
with twenty-two
Suffering beyond the country is K.O The limited state, Congolese mistreated, expelled from right and left by bad law Under God tse, in my heart Congolese I am
I’m in this shit
Top class, it’s premiership
If these motherfuckers kill me yall niggas my witnesses
You’s a dark horse looking nigga
Got it from your
I was raised from age 12
With the aim to go to hell
But I excelled
I'm ringing this Bell to prove that I won't fail
I'll succeed
It will raise my
What's love got to do
When I'm rippin' all through your whole crew
Strapped like bamboo, but I don't sling guns
I got bags of funk, and it's sellin' by
What's love got to do
When I'm rippin' all through your whole crew
Strapped like bamboo, but I don't sling guns
I got bags of funk, and it's sellin' by
York, big city of dreams
And everything in New York ain't always what it seems
You might get fooled if you come from outta town
But I'm down by law,
paying my rent every day
Oh in the tower of song
I said to hank Williams, how lonely does it get?
Hank Williams hasn't answered yet
But I hear him
“I'm No Hank Williams” by Corey Smith from the CD “Hard-Headed Fool”
I got a foot in the door, and one in the rain
I'm standing on the threshold
you know that I got Mag in (what?)
Ask me am I only rappin', you know I got that bag in (you see it)
Band man like Lonnie (Lonnie), want my head, come
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