Lyrics:
they won't give me no space
Bad bitch with an innocent face
Why you broke? There's a million ways
Got my knife every day 'cause I'm still in my ways
and my girl spend it all n
Yep we cool no more bein broke n I got you
So don't even worry girl my days
On tha corner are over
saggin like a thug, buy a hoe the Louis belt
The whole clique, throwin ten, I can do that by myself
My sound ground, they be alien and don't know it like
the ocean
Just livin my life while I record it
Last will to survive like my final notion
Feel like I'm flyin
By the way they still all ah floatin
Shootin
for all my Gs
Quarterback in the streets
Throw a zip for three
Mr mC on the beats that
Still spin when I freeze
In the city by the sea, bitch
Feel
in my... R.A... N.Y.C.B.A.P.T
Roy Ayers New York City Bachelor Appartment
Doing my thing
Minding my own business
As a matter of fact, I was looking
By a basic standard, you could say I'm doing great
Huge raise at work, plus I got my own place
Business owner, yeah I'm stacking up my own cake
you bitch ass niggas)
Yo, the revolve' or the mati's cool
Knife game like Daddy Cool's, since Bally Shoes
This is real life street shit, truest
(Quincy Tellem)
Sho, sho, sho, problem, you already know
Sevens, O, AB
R.I.P Kobe, R.I.P Nish, R.I.P MB
Sevens Gang, sho (Kayman made the beat)
You lucky to even just be on my schedule
Ima run up 100 or better
Dese niggas be talking but yeah its whatever
Going broke nigga nope that's a neva
I'm
they're gonna beat my ass
Hit a quick cut, run by the Ave.
Go to the Valley you know I gotta laugh
Jogged to the third floor runnin' the dope spot
on the run and I better run fast
'cause if I don't they're gonna beat my ass
Hit a quick cut, run by the Ave.
Go to the Valley you know I gotta laugh
Jogged
[master p]
You know what?
This ghetto got me so crazy
My life, it almost feel like I'm a phone call or ring away from death
Ain't this fucked up
Big
-funk be ridin' shot gun escort your window broke out son
A cool breeze got my lips chap, mornin' slap some
Soul in my bread basket gap contain "x" marks
cool
Been a Goddess, so I play by my own rules
Sucked to the paper like a motherfuckin' purple glue
Got him overthinkin', man, what she bout to do
We
a capital M
Call me $hort Dog baby, put the P in the Pimp
I keep my foot in your ass and wouldn't give a fuck
Get out her pocket, bitch you gettin' beat up
you was wondering
Slutted that lil hoe in my backseat so how I fumbled it
Weed loud but I don't talk much
No drive by hop out and walk up
Ain't talking
you want what you need
Just served my potna who play in the league
He wanted some pills and a couple of P's
He paid for 2 but I threw him 3
Dope so good
my high breakin' rules
You got ya P's mixed up
You ain't no pimp
You's a forty
I spit for major mix
While you make tapes for ya homie
The bottles and cuffs, nigga butt
You about to witness an M o p thug out
And for you niggas hatin' listen
To the sounds of
The Unit kiss my ass with your
P-P-K-Dog on the track, bam
Yeah
Woah
What do you know
That boy there got flow
Got more love when I was broke
Now I'm going all black, Rob like woah
back
Still got the itch like I
Been wearing a wool mask
P dank's the symbol to know
I got the nimblest flow
Under the Timberland cloak
You wanna roll
let my eagle go coke on me, we leaning
But I don't need it though
Your girlfriend dropped 6 bands
But i don't need you hoe
Broke her when I met her when
You got the gall to call em out but one phone call
Everything you love is gone by tomorrow
All your money's borrowed, wallet instantly hollowed
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