I swear to God if you fuckers fuck this up for the rest of us you will not get any pudding, none! (Do you wanna know why?) The seventh of September
(feat. DJ Plain Ol' Bill) I swear to God if you fuckers fuck this up for the rest of us you will not get any pudding, none! (Do you wanna know why?)
Translation: Atmosphere. The Old Style.
clientele And from the time I was only six years old I never forgot what I was told It was the best advice that I ever had It came from my wise dear old
Oh, it some hoes in here It must be some players in the atmosphere I say ooh, it some hoes in here It must be some players in the atmosphere Now back
walk around celibate, livin' irrelevant The most benelovent king, communicatin' through your dreams Mental pictures been painted, Allah's heard and seen Everywhere, throughout your surroundin' atmosphere
M I crooked letter comin' around the South Rollin' straight hammers and vogues in that old Southern slouch Please, ain't nothin' but incense in my atmosphere
Ahhhhhhhhhhhh! Something wicked your way comes from what I hear can I smell fear in the atmosphere of Music. Tell me what the hell for 'cause we rock
vibration, I choose to use it with a vision and then comes the style and precision... [Slug] No more longer will we hold your hand Why? Cause you're too damn old
i asked if the only way i'll ever get to see her is when she's on her back b-b-b-but the first time we fucked was shakin', wild digital underground style
through it as a union, with the best of my crew Bumpin melodys and memories too, my heads killin me, ohh Stomach empty, my bladder is full Two year old
' full of dick till the hole rips And let em' know that's what they get for that ho shit "Ooh my goodness, Slug went up and flipped his style I haven
hide betta use your cellular i tapped your phone line its the ginger bread man, hoe catch me if u can my kangol makes me look like MC Shan rock tha atmosphere
do? I got the white diamonds, yellow and blue Open mouth see pawned set Crushed diamonds, it's somethin' new Couple karats in here low Neck and wrist in near froze Spit a verse with diamond teeth, the atmosphere
Let's hear a reggae vibe, yeah, yeah This one called the change of style Shaggy style, let me say Life ah be under pressure The only way to relieve the
, two, three, whoa, I flow rhymes wicked And bust some to keep me uplifted It flows to my braincells like from smoke I'm no joke, I make an old man croak
m i crooked letter coming around the south Rollin straight hammers and vogues in that old southern slouch Please ain't nothin but inscence in my atmosphere
