Lyrics:
Yes Sir
Yes Sir
Thriteen letters man ..
We gona take a lil look at the letter that Paul wrote to Titus.
And I'm praying that it will help us see
runtz
Surrounded by millionaires baby I'm about to become one
Death bfr dishonor ik your pussy ass didn't feel that one
Hoe ass bitch go ask your girl how
Serpent
Calls me by
The name of my past transgressions
Strident
But I shan't cry
Because I am freed of those sins
If well, from which your deeds
of the crisis..worse than a biter
You're a wack rapper's cock rider
in spite of lying, Even your stage show's disgraceful
See, you're that one nigga that's on the cell
a money machine
Your girl like Gumby, how she bends over, fuck me
It seems that I've struck a nerve, I'm a boss, there's no one I'm employed by
That's
me in the face
Chinky from the drugs, give a f*** about your feelings, so
Motherf*** the Feds, get the phone call, INTERPOL
I look in your soul, then I
about...cholesterol
Speculation...of my gall...
Why not instead
Place in your head
Quote that's read
From Saint Paul
Whatever you do I'm'ma sending you out
c
I don't wanna be alone
But I'd rather be alone
Fuck your problems baby i don't wanna know
If you love me baby you just lemme know
I been riding
judged by your mug, they didn`t hear your case
Now face the wall -face the wall!-
Your face is against the law
You look at me I look at y`all
I
you
Even your enemies go de love you
E get the way wey your food go done
Even Satan go recognize you
No be by power no be by might
No be by quarrelle no
and gentlemen, just imagine it, someone comes along, takes everything you own, your space, your house, separates you from your family and then hits you in the face
count up the money until I got blisters
I'm rocking wit' you and your sister
She sent me the text but I missed it
She fall in love wit' what I whisper
She
blasphemy
Dropkick would put you off your toes, that's gravity
Unless that's a seven and O, you can't match with me
Unless you got drug charge, you can't rap
Paul wall..chick magnet in stores
me and mick jones we the future baby
we comin' soon...its the swishahouse
straight to da room
I'm lookin' for
make you grind to get above me
And my world has not been sweet by any means I think its lovey, I'm not pressed by Anyone or stressing over fucking
no hoe
Ni**a get up out my face, you ain't my bro
Putting up a false persona, putting up a show
Ooooo, woahh
Ohhh, yea
All my dawgs gonna need guidance
like a bubbling light
I'm not your bud but I shine kinda like Bud Light
I'm thoed but you can catch me macking somethings is yella (Yellow)
Sippin
catch me runnin' from no man
It's so strange, the look on you face that does not bring
Or brings it to doors lane, put blood on your close lane
Your
waist
Big tits all in your face
Pretty face
I love to masterbate
Fuck me until eight
Yeah
I got the pretty face
Yeah
Big penis John Paul Jones appears
to covet this track from Tribe Called Quest
They rep that Zulu Nation but like Paul I gotta say
Yet I show you a more excellent way
Yet I show you a more
a nigga like Lysol
Don't get mad at me cause
I smashed your bitch
Then I passed her like Chris Paul
Hell nah I don’t need no label
Hundred bands just
in my game, if you cannot hang
Get the fuck up out my face and let me do my thang
Now
Show your ass, gon' hit the flo'
Show your ass, gon' hit
your pimp on
Let me hit the bong oh and my mind's quite strong
Wreck it nice and proper if it's on I'm finsta to stop her
If I'm swingin' for
make feel nice
I go make em feel alive
You make me feel like I earned it
If i make that pussy mine
You know that's on purpose
Your ex gotta be hurtin cos
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