be done He worked on his chops eight hours a day While learning the ropes and climbing the ranks He kicked and he scratched to get his shot And he never kissed ass
send my goons to gunnin im all about that money don't make me send my goons to gunnin (rick ross) all about my money nigga run with my monopoly money my
gates white but my President black My money green, the sky blue and thats where heaven is at I don't carry a gat, but my n-ggas do It's like my jumper
I really got my toes pointed, hand on my dick I'm sick, I got the flu, but I'll still kiss you till you smell like Doodoo, my ass is soggy My drawers
of it Yea, I'm just a poet with some hangtime I dont really shakespeare I just shake dice Miami nights, made a couple grand Private plane TSA can kiss my ass
And zone out to this Frankie Beverly and Mayes As our days about to pass and them days in the past He set my mind free so my mind free at last So much
all them funny names motherfuckers disrespecting my country and my people, I wish ya'll would get yo fuck ass out of my face free at last my ass Mr. President
you thought I was stuck in the grill I had my nigga wit me, plan on my mind JIGGA wit me hand on my nine, I take 'em wit me Kris Kross ingo's wit me
me on the rampage, Jackson Part of my reaction to they corny ass raps Keep flirting with death and get your horny ass clapped Back for more me, rat tat, kiss
My world, my TV, and my food Besides listening to my belly gurgle Ain't much else to do Yeah, I sweat a lot Pants fall down every time I bend over And
wanna black president, but we ain't ready for change, lil chain round ya neck like we still slaves my lil cuz comin up he wanna be in the game my other
t be done He worked on his chops eight hours a day While learning the ropes and climbing the ranks He kicked and he scratched to get his shot And he never kissed ass
, I'll never do shit, that's that Fuck it I quit, suck on a dick, jackass I'm done with this wack ass rap, kiss my black ass [Chorus] (Best Rapper Alive
your ass. This stinky cigar is making me choke on the words that are written for me. Oral sex isn't sex if it's performed on the commander in chief. Now read my
) Looking back in time Through the corners of my mind I see you standing there (Standing there) Baby, how much I miss you How much I want to kiss you Run my
like Jose Canseco 'fore they steal raw cream that I keep up in my Saints coat I put the Cali on the map my nigga And I'll never kiss radio or TV ass,
on The sweaty steam roll, and thanks for not trying to touch my butthole Now tell your girls I want them to meet my 'lil fren' Nah, I'm playing, kiss
motherfucker on the market Now he got the nicest bitch, what? Remi Martin Where my girl at, quick to bust the mack, better believe that She always got my
