Lyrics:
C, the stolen P
I stay in your chair with the ITP
We're no Mr nice, organise bum fights
(Uh, uh) sushi and shit, rice plus mais
Put you in the via,
to be some kind of old VHS
My, it's quite dirty
Mr. Green, I found this unmarked VHS. How much for it
Unmarked, hmm? Well, Billy, you're a nice young
Yeah, uh huh
David Banner on the beat bitch
Ha ha ha
Young Money, Streets
I'm a east sider rider, whoa kemosabe
Bitches get to stepping like Cole
i feel so nice through the high and the lows il be by your side
I said by mr right you wont let me go
Night in shining armour fought to keep me close
Coachella, i
Got a tour comin' up, I don't
Really have time but, fuck it
I gotta figure it out
Cole Alexander adding his vocals to DEATHCAMP
Tyler recording
eyes totaled
Mr Wi-Fi, out a franchise go to
Magic, standby local's
Watch the track bust once I show my dick size to the Pro-Tools
I teach you how
eyes totaled
Mr Wi-Fi, out a franchise go to
Magic, standby local's
Watch the track bust once I show my dick size to the Pro-Tools
I teach you how
later
I'm Mr. motherfucker Mr. moneymaker
I'm Mr. make your bitches day by how I break her
Get this bitch up off me, get this bitch up off me
Get this
while they're all climbing in
Sound of breathing ceasing, lung by lung they watch him die within
Not just the season, built that fire pit which I defend
know it)
It's B. Cole I been gettin money fast
Bendin corners 160 on da dash
Errytime You see me bitch I'm ridin Clean
Wrist watch ring n da chain gleam
the shadows
Hear the hammers head as it put’s to bed
All those whispering threats you pose
I’m Mr.Nice, hot as the sun as cool as ice
Dead and buried by
on bars I’m nice no flattery
Bitch nigga era just flaring up my allergy
Men casually sipping strawberry daiquiris
Never turn me into that, look carefully,
Cole, Gina, Tommy
P**** is a weapon and my hoes think I'm Simon
And Simon say go and get my motherf***ing money
Young mula b****, tell them hoes, take
J cole say cole world, it's colder
Damn
Thought I'd be more realistic
Love with forgiving spirit
Instead of lusting big booty bitches
Perhaps it ain't
Times"
feelin like J.J., I'm standin in the food bank line
My momma was ridin on the bus tryna get to work
Early in the morn', it's cold and her knees hurt
your body don't stop don't miss)
Man she got me in the zone when I watch this broad pass by
Been becking at this bitch all night but this my last try
I
watch like Movado so I floss like I'm lotto
You ain't lounging, til you've been counting by the thousands
Profiling, pushing more weight than your
Well, you know the Juggla jumped in the mixer
Been down the road and I broke a few necks
And I'll break a few more, so what's up?
Road by me
Paper
I do not mess with no Snake No Hater
If she is a hoe J. Cole cannot save Her
Some of y'all Mr. Krabs in front of Women
Y'all beep boop Bop beep boop
finna stair into yo soul
Got me washing dishes
Got me gaining some control
Spitting fast and cold
I'm in the lanes like I'm J Cole
Alice smoking Kush
But we loved everyone like we love our sneakers
Ms Sullivan you're so sweet
Thanks for lovin this class for weeks
You got traded Mr Brick you came
the country
They been sleeping on me
Cause they listen to junkies
Mr little whatever
Cause I know I'm way better
I ain't talking no way
Cole already murdered
the motherfuckin' house!
Home Team in the mother motherfuckin' house!
J T a Money money Poi son Clan in the motherfuckin' house!
Aak! Fresh Kid Ice in
and gangsta!
[Chorus - Mr. G'stacka]
Now it's the pimp and the gangsta, stackin cheese
And we ain't rollin unless we sittin on 20 inch D's
We slide wit ease
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