Lyrics:
of dead president heads on green, long papers
Then went and put dead president heads on mountains
How we ain't gon' make it?
You know what
I went from
beach
You'll never drill for oil on a city street
I know you're looking for a ruby in a mountain of rocks
But there ain't no Coup de Ville hiding
You can catch me in public housing, wit' bundles of D
Or in the Santa Monica mountains, bundled up to ski
Since, time is money, I rhyme on the clock
construct the rhyme
At a self-destruct in your tape deck
In your walkman or in your truck
Benzy box, boom box, comstock upon my block
Choppers hovering,
mountaineers
Bar stool mountain expiditioneers
I'm done with whiskey, wine, and beer
It's nasal spray from this day here
It seems I'm drunk on drip again
Sugar bee, Sugar bee, Your father will make it home you'll see
I'll travel those mountains and sail across those seas just to be with you
I know it's
When I get off of this mountain
You know where I wanna go?
Straight down the Mississippi River
To the Gulf of Mexico
To Lake Charles, Louisiana
you say?
What's Colorado Cool-Aid?
Well, it's a can of Coors brewed from a mountain stream
It'll set you head on fire an' make your kidneys scream
When I get off of this mountain
You know where I wanna go?
Straight down the Mississippi River
To the Gulf of Mexico
To Lake Charles, Louisiana
Mainly my own though, I've lost patience
I'm painting over old photos, I'm new now
Fresh out the box all bloody
Somebody cut me loose, slap me, call me
Under the island, middle of a mountain
There is a big bad boomin' system
Blowin' speakers, woofers and tweeters
Amplifiers, melted wires
healthy life, I’m out the box
When I run I'm in bliss baby, feel so good I don't wanna stop
Free my lungs of that marijuana,
Get my burn like
oil on a city street
I know you're looking for a ruby in a mountain of rocks
But there ain't no coup de ville hiding at the bottom
Of a cracker jack box
The final solution.
It's a box full of tricks.
And I'm through with repairs
When there's nothing to fix,
When there's nothing to fix,
When there's nothing
Sometimes you gotta dig deep, the boss (Maybach Music, oh Lord)
On top of the mountain, I won't follow you cowards (uh)
All I need is a pilot, and a proper
venacular
Miraculous rhyme flow, back track to the Immaculate
Binaca blast nigga that's fast, son I'll box ya
Ladies rub the ta-ta's, bras, titties
to the Immaculate
Binaca blast nigga that's fast, son I'll out-box ya
Ladies rub the ta-ta's, bras, titties and knockers on the floor
Owww! Fellas pull ya cock out
the mountain's side was shining
Wild colors of my destiny
I watched your face age backwards
Changing shape in my memory
You told me victory's sweet
Even
Mountains of wealth ain't really shit without health
Memento tried in stealth
Explain Cause hell is crowded with cowards who fail for the dollar
Now watch
And a hundred words for them hummingbirds that like to eavesdrop
And fan out like peacocks with a parakeet that beat box
So the sun rise when the beat drops
shit gots to go
The implorer, the universe explorer
Treat M see's like the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah
Leavin' these niggaz open like a box
like the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah
Leavin these niggas open like a box of Pandora
With styles that's newer than the world order
Approximately three
Under the island, middle of a mountain
There is a big bad boomin' system
Blowin' speakers, woofers and tweeters
Amplifiers, melted wires
Andale, Andale
It's TobyMac with the Group 1 Crew
Andale, Andale
Would you got it, come on
I’ve heard life is like a box of sweet delights
But
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