get your ass kicked A few stitches a cast or a casket I'm the calm one, but my crew is sort of sick I'm low key, but my pockets stay thick Thick like
Crackerjack store still at will for field up the skill for the jill by the Jack misguided mojo swing low string sing along as I bring along with the song
you, guaranteed every shell'll hit you Plus I'm on some shit too Layin down whose-ever witchu Mafioso, the New York City 90's era Sosa AZ, you know my
jeans no thong no bra girl let me run my fingers threw your weave you a 90%freak 10% tease i aint tryin to be here grindin the rap songs no tonight
out These judge mental cowards got they eyes closed They didn't see me creeping up from behind they want to be me But I ain't trippin', sippin' on something 90
of the 12 priests, crab louse, won't catch it Shut the fuck up, your mouth is like punks (shut up!), always runnin (ha!) From the '90's, so I never will
think about True, true So as the beat reaches a lower kind of level We gon' put some mega shit together Now we gon' drop it a little bit somethin' like this This song
crackerjack store Still at will For field up the skill for the jill by the jack Misguided mojo swing low string Sing along as I bring along with the song
Slippin', slidin', glidin', low ridin', yeah Ain't no hidin' from this hit, on the real Fool, you know how we do it, irresistible Just keep it poppin
the young one, growing up broke me and my people as the self, huh, I guess we all in the same boat Think it, plus drinkin that 90-proof Playin' on the
it won't sink, I'm around the way Make you want to tell somebody cause I'm a square or something Keep it on the low and we could do this today [Chorus
get my part-time slang on Upon a time for me was no joke though They knew I was crazy, so they labelled me Loco Khakis creased, golf hat, feelin sporty Low
As the young one, growing up broke me and my people as the self, huh, I guess we all in the same boat Think it, plus drinkin that 90-proof Playin' on
my part-time slang on Upon a time for me was no joke though They knew I was crazy, so they labelled me Loco Khakis creased, golf hat, feelin sporty Low
get you, guaranteed every shell'll hit you Plus I'm on some shit too Layin down whose-ever witchu Mafioso, the New York City 90's era Sosa AZ, you know