Lyrics:
outdid myself
Bag said by next year we up dog shit
When Devil's Night hit number one I called it
Why you talkin all that rah-rah you all a bitch
You can
ventures, gotta fund that
Fumble once and then come back
Know that shit bound to happen when you out here tryna run that
Got a stash under a house
Similar
live in a house by myself vacant
Party hard on the road till my face faceless
Bruises on the wall
Upside down faces
Ring around the marry go
City light
Don't you run up in this house
Don't you fuck around and get caught
Boy I got big big guns
Make 'em go b-b-b-bum
I can't lie, I've been trippin'
run out, time’s run out, TIMES RUN OUT
Good lord don’t make me get loud in this house
I’ll silence the ignorance by burning it down
money, for new jewelry (for new what)
Before I cop it buy mama at least 2 or 3 new houses
Know them broke bitches hate it
They ain't stay true to me
Fucked
right up on the bed of the house
By the way that she bounce on that ass
you would think she was a stripper performin
Look at that cake, goddamn, shit,
The act of makin love...is...
[REFRAIN]
pink cookies in a plastic bag, gettin crushed by buildings
pink cookies in a plastic bag, gettin crushed by
Straddling the county lines, I lift my head toward the pine
To see my hows dilapidated burned up by a cigar flaming
I run my hands through the ruins
to the hood
Stop by her momma house, that's if I'm feeling good
Now I need a fifth, time to hit the strip
I'ma hit the club, I'ma buy the VIP
We spending money,
bestest shit
Gorillas in the mist, pro-black, pump they fist
I'm from the Planet of the Apes, King Kong clips
Silence Lambs, bitch, run through your land
child, I made him mine, mm hmm
So quick to run to your friends
And talk about, what we do in this house
And then you want to party all night long
What
child, I made him mine, mm hmm
So quick to run to your friends
And talk about, what we do in this house
And then you want to party all night long
What
'81 I was rocking the house
I'm a hustler, baby, coming up
I hustle every day and I don't sell drugs
I don't run no gangs, don't shoot no dice
Gave
niggas up to somethin'
Touch down out in H-Town, there it might get ugly
It's trill niggas, where it's niggas, a whole army of 'em
I run the check up,
at the very heart of things
Do you want children? Do you wanna marry me?
Do you wanna run marathons in Long Beach by the sea?
I've got things to do like
hurting me
And we both go down on the floor, and he pushes my head back
Onto the corner of the fridge which is, total agony
Then he gets up and runs out
"I got ta" (Repeat 4x)
(I got ta) Pick up the mic on a soul tip
(I got ta) Run you down like a Polo skip
(I got ta) Rip MC's like a paper bag
(I
No way, Hozay
I might just K.O
The Perc up in my Faygo
Run up on me wrong, turn his head into a bagel
On the opposition block, just like a Lego
her
Master P:
I need a bitch to hold my stash, a bitch to give me some ass
And when I'm on the run I need a hoe to send me some cash
I'm a ball 'til I
of a river bed A house
boat tied to a big tall tree A home for my poppa and
my momma and me The clock strikes three Poppa jumps
to his fee Already Moma's
a president'll be a swat guy
That's like choosing which bullet you gon' get shot by
A drank and some hot fries
Slowly eating me up from inside to outside
Yeah,
Drought 3
Hahaha
Yeah
Scott Storch
Bitch, I'm back on my grizzy, Young Money, where you at?
Two tables and a mic, tell the DJ run it
to small
tell'em like this look, it's gone be
a shoot out, whoeva make it out
gone meet back at the new house
good luck, if I don't see you again peace
let's
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