And everything was just peachy! Except of course for the undeniable fact That every single morning My mother would make me a big ol' bowl of Sauer kraut for breakfast Dawww Big
our records would hit the top ten But they're illin with the shillings makin sum dead yen scorn Born, break up Zulu dawn Whether Big Apple, N.Y. straight
All these fly strippers, just wanna lick us They kiss us, they hug us, short skirts by the dozens I done went through all her sisters and cousins Short skirts, short skirts, the Big Apple
AND DECIVIN BUT I KEEP MY HEAD UP LIKE MY NOSE IS BLEEDIN AND UNTIL THAT CHOSEN EVENIN IMA BE SCREAMIN APPLE AN EAGLE YEA DATS RIGHT APPLE AND EAGLE HOLLYGROVE
I keep my head up like my nose is bleedin' Yeah, and until that chosen evenin' I'ma be screamin Apple and Eagle Yeah that's rite Apple and Eagle Hollygrove
shots* It's a story about two brothers, Rob and Vic Grew up in the world alone God forgot about them, hmm Forced to fend for themselves In the Rotten Apples
tacklin The crab apple got skills but at the same time artist I face the east and pray to the rhyme goddess With the tender lovin, the rainin and the big
dollars on you EBT card if you can just riddle me this yo momma is so hairy contestant numbr one here we go yo momma so hairy shelook big foot why
make my head bop, so I'ma rock it for the streets I fill all my days with big butts and boom I let my pants hand 'cuz my big nuts need room I'm not old
in the worst way Fuck 'em like the earth say From first day I surveyed the hassle Death knockin' at your door In the big apple Meth rotton to the core
going swell and everything was just peachy Except, of course, for the undeniable fact that every single morning My mother would make me a big bowl of sauerkraut for breakfast Awww - Big
shots] It's a story about two brothers, Rob and Vic Grew up in the world alone God forgot about them, hmm Forced to fend for themselves In the Rotten Apples
my lyricists at? ! Where my lyricists at? ! Where the fuck you niggas at? ! Where the lyricists at? ! [Verse 1: Big Lou] I could carry the weight of Pun, ressurect Big
lyricists at? ! Where my lyricists at? ! Where the f*** you n****s at? ! Where the lyricists at? ! [Verse 1: Big Lou] I could carry the weight of Pun, ressurect Big
fly strippers, just wanna lick us They kiss us, they hug us, short skirts by the dozens I done went through all her sisters and cousins Short skirts short skirts, the Big Apple
Beats make my head bop, so I'ma rock it for the streets I fill all my days with big butts and boom I let my pants hand cause my big nuts need room I'm
records would hit the top ten But they're illin with the shillings makin sum dead yen scorn Born, break up Zulu dawn Whether Big Apple, N.Y. straight
