That term's done fucka, what up whatever You bird's is food I'm about to pluck some feathers, I'm young and clever, Plus, clutch under pressure, yup!
club Sunday at the disco club, everydays' a disco club See us at the disco club, see you at the disco club We're going to break it on down Rub it on your belly
Fuck a little line We can go ahead and kill a K Livin' in the killer's state Maybe that's a good excuse See me taking shots at the bar Like I'm bulletproof Now my belly
my zing way Ain't nutten else I know, gone up in the life With this I-ragged born flow Squeeze the pain from my belly and set my soul free Travel over
you man I be rollin' on dem corners No Range, no necklace man Range Rover no rims left they neck in da pain And put the silencer on the tip professional man Pressure
daddy me snow me I go sing it non stop Me I go reachin' a de back me I'll go straight to de top
tone how it feel not to be able to sleep I was layin on him in his dream squeezing on the heat I kept the pressure on him, now, I'm universal Now he
That We Broke In As Well It Goes To Show That You Can't Tell Who Deserves The Dough You Look Like A Shrivelled Old Tart, You Look Like A Beer Bellied
She wasn't born anorexic, but nowadays she suffers, staring at these half-naked stars on magazine covers. feeling pressured by the public. She only weighs
it feel not to be able to sleep I was layin on him in his dream squeezing on the heat I kept the pressure on him, now, I'm Universal Now he played this
s successor That term's done fucker, what up whatever You birds is food, I'm about to pluck some feathers I'm young and clever, plus clutch under pressure
While I use the hook line and sinker simple fishing Simple primitive self taught, easing of soul, mind and body but the symptoms rejected my cave-man modus operandi So now it's one fish belly
This be the dawning of the age of dead water Stitchin every b-boy fragment Somebody live enough to bust through the belly with a fist up This is a right
closing in 'cause I'm supposed to win How the cold steel feel when it froze your chin Should of stayed on dry land stroke while you can 'Cause now you under pressure
pressure you quiver in the jam while naked angels measure a piece of rotting ham in symphonies of jelly you play with my disease while back across your belly
you test mine You won't be coming back again like sinbad's sitcom I think they wanna battle You blew up like roseanne's belly Your style's too old to
come kiss me And if you diss me, honey that's all right My thug game is still tight Just trying to see if I can hit a little something tonight I see the pressure
on forever Formed a blanket for his nakedness And that lusty girl, the world, who'll laughing yield To the men who'll stand the pressure of her thighs