That's him over there, I can't really stand him I don't like him at all He's a mean
Uh He's mean and vicious I can't believe hes that rude To those stories those rhymes that jew Then he put 'em on the floor like cat food And put 'em on the track like glue Then put 'em on your head like hat Hey back to you lou black power I'm just running with a barrel full of black powder Wita hole in it hole in it wheezin' deep, breathin' Running from the fire on the trail I keep leavin' I can't shake it I swear it's heat seekin' I keep seekin' somewhere to hide from it I can die from it But it keep keepin' up just when I think that I've done it It keep sneakin' up Oh leakin' barrel of black powder how that flame keep reachin' us Just one of the long rended extended metaphors alose This time I use an example of a fuse To demonstrate how I can't lose I would put it down but I can't due to the glue That I use the fuse everything together Well I spill some on my hands And God Damn I might have to carry this forever Well I'm crazy to the game 'till they bury me insane
There once was a boy that grew up on the West side of Chicago Liked his hat to the left side Wasn't in a gang but he was prone to bang Doing his thangg doin his thang There once was a boy that grew up on the West side of Chicago Liked his hat to the left side Wasn't in a gang but he was known to bang like Doing his thangg doin his thang
Truthfully I have trouble with second versus Cuz' the first one be so intimidating It'd be bullyin' and pickin' on it instigatin' Pointin' out all the second ones limitations Like you ain't nothing but an imitation Like bits of bakin' then it gets the chorus And the beat to together then they gang up on him and get to hatin' But then around the 8th bar he tired So they conspire and comiseratin then he fin' his inspiration To spar he takes a few seconds of judo lessons Gets back on beat then punches the guitar They stand in awe like when did you write that They even right black First verse already happened So he don' have a chance to fight back I like that Abagnale Junior check me You gon' respect me A 8 track listen to 'em feelin' himself Swagger up and a few ad libs to back it up Lets back it up I think you've had enough Give me my mic back You aint even write that Oh it's like that? Track stop pumpin' till this nigga stop frontin' Yeah yeah now right back
There once was a boy that grew up on the West side of Chicago Liked his hat to the left side Wasn't in a gang but he was prone to bang Doing his thangg doin his thang There once was a boy that grew up on the West side of Chicago Liked his hat to the left side Wasn't in a gang but he was known to bang like Doing his thangg doin' his thang
Oh my god My perils in my odds I ain't really here what you hear is a mirage This ain't the delivery baby this is just Lamaze The ice cream and pickles tickle and a massage The king author of the knight eldibage The camafouge water in the distance Loggin' a camel to get there wit the quickness Mean and vicious Grinch who stole Christmas and hid it in the garage There was a collage a barrage that brought all things to help this thing start Jump jump, my battery charge I'm bout my green like string beans and beings from mars It's a mean thing to be seen with ours Got that F&F homie I'm a young lil' thriller I will resurrect homie come back for my killa In some disheveled apparel with that same leakin' barrel insane
There once was a boy that grew up on the West side of Chicago Liked his hat to the left side Wasn't in a gang but he was prone to bang Doing his thangg doin' his thang There once was a boy that grew up on the West side of Chicago Liked his hat to the left side Wasn't in a gang but he was known to bang like Doing his thangg doin his thang