| Form better niggas, club night, no sparkles
|
| Forty wolves on deck with burners in their snorkel
|
| Criminology, pea soup Wallabees
|
| Ghostface Killahs with degrees in gynecology/gun-ecology (Yeah)
|
| Shoot your old lady in her privacy (Word)
|
| A bunch of ho-ho-hoes wanna ride with me (Go Santa)
|
| I’m caught up in these strong-arm robberies
|
| Flee with the lottery, these pussy niggas shot at me
|
| Yo, you ever been face-fucked with a four-fifth?
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| Sweating, facial expression is stressing like ‘oh shit'
|
| That’s the shit that I don’t like
|
| Non-rappin' rappers in the booth and they don’t write
|
| Fuckin' stupid ass rappers
|
| Acting out of their character, I shoot and stab rappers
|
| P! |
| What it do, nigga?
|
| I fucks with Wu-Tang and a couple of new niggas
|
| I don’t weirdo with queer clothes
|
| I share flows, when it enter your earhole
|
| Shit, it’s a thing of pure beauty
|
| Everything that’s spittin' is written by yours truly
|
| Nigga, when Sean write hard
|
| Niggas do anything for it like Klondike Bars
|
| Pa, I’m the greatest of all-time
|
| How should we forget the latest with Alzheim’s?
|
| Form better niggas, club night, no sparkles
|
| Forty wolves on deck with burners in their snorkel
|
| Criminology, pea soup Wallabees
|
| Ghostface Killahs with degrees in gynecology/gun-ecology (Yeah)
|
| Shoot your old lady in her privacy (Word)
|
| A bunch of ho-ho-hoes wanna ride with me (Go Santa)
|
| I’m caught up in these strong-arm robberies
|
| Flee with the lottery, these pussy niggas shot at me
|
| Since, birth, I’ve been a fast learner, ask my earth
|
| That’s my mama, kept a burner in her purse
|
| This murder in the first
|
| Whatcha thought, that was the gift? |
| That’s the curse
|
| I put everythang on it, that’s ‘The works'
|
| I’m in it for the perks
|
| ‘Cause it’s not about the image, it’s the thirst
|
| And how they kill your image with a verse
|
| A hater get it worse
|
| I’m telling every member of your church
|
| They gon' have to put your image on a shirt
|
| ‘Til I finish my dessert, nobody eatin'
|
| That’s everybody, I mean anybody
|
| I might leave somebody bleedin'
|
| Or watch me catch a homi', even hit you in the lobby
|
| Shotty pop ya like a molly, probably leave you hardly breathin'
|
| Don’t try to Blaze with Johnny even if you got an army
|
| Dirty money in the laundry, don’t ask why, I got my reasons
|
| I puff that Bob Marley, might hit you with the Tommy
|
| You can catch me in the party near the speaker not speakin'
|
| Form better niggas, club night, no sparkles
|
| Forty wolves on deck with burners in their snorkel
|
| Criminology, pea soup Wallabees
|
| Ghostface Killahs with degrees in gynecology/gun-ecology (Yeah)
|
| Shoot your old lady in her privacy (Word)
|
| A bunch of ho-ho-hoes wanna ride with me (Go Santa)
|
| I’m caught up in these strong-arm robberies
|
| Flee with the lottery, these pussy niggas shot at me
|
| Pass any test of litmus, workout at 24-Hour Fitness
|
| On the weekend, I’m sipping Belvedere with that citrus
|
| My dogs is vicious, exotic nympho broad for my mistress
|
| Life is good, live every day like it is Christmas
|
| Happy New Year—I do what the fuck I wanna do here, nigga
|
| Splash the handcrafted Gucci from the shirt to the shoe wear
|
| I crush the rings out, wife-beater tee with no wings out
|
| I got stamina, I’ll long-dick a bird ‘til she sings out
|
| La-la-la-la, Bobby Dig convert Lady Gaga
|
| Back to heterosexual, I’m classic like Impala
|
| Plus, I’m federal, when it comes to making dollars
|
| Like Jiggaman, nigga, if you hear me, fuckin' holla
|
| Power rings like the Green Lantern, last seen in a mean Phantom
|
| In the valley of Ohio, outside the town of Canton
|
| Or the grotty body projects in the Killa Hills of Staten
|
| Saw a redbone in my shower just looking like Paula Patton
|
| Form better niggas, club night, no sparkles
|
| Forty wolves on deck with burners in their snorkel
|
| Criminology, pea soup Wallabees
|
| Ghostface Killahs with degrees in gynecology/gun-ecology (Yeah)
|
| Shoot your old lady in her privacy (Word)
|
| A bunch of ho-ho-hoes wanna ride with me (Go Santa)
|
| I’m caught up in these strong-arm robberies
|
| Flee with the lottery, these pussy niggas shot at me
|
| Form better niggas, club night, no sparkles
|
| Forty wolves on deck with burners in their snorkel
|
| Criminology, pea soup Wallabees
|
| Ghostface Killahs with degrees in gynecology/gun-ecology
|
| Shoot your old lady in her privacy
|
| A bunch of ho-ho-hoes wanna ride with me (Go Santa)
|
| I’m caught up in these strong-arm robberies
|
| Flee with the lottery, these pussy niggas shot at me
|
| Form better niggas, club night, no sparkles |