[talking]
Man, I've been thinking
What you've been thinking about man?
Ever since Country Grammar done spent seven million
Millions I told you
That shit's been crazy
Shit's been frucking crazy, I tell ya
[Chorus - Ali & Murphy Lee]
Maaaaaan, this is the life, club packed, I'm lovin that
Picking the best hoes like a runningback, what up with that?
Ma' (come on ma'), let's break and leave the spot
Before the haters who ain't fuckin shoot up the parking lot
Maaaaaan, this is the life, club packed, I'm lovin that
Picking the best hoes like a runningback, what up with that?
Ma' (come on ma'), let's break and leave the spot
Before the haters who ain't fuckin shoot up the parking lot
Maaaaaan, this is the life
[Murphy Lee]
Ay yo, I'm Chachee Acolla, dirty, I know ya heard me
'Cause I'm forty-eight plus negative thirty, Murphy perverted
And you know that, be in strip clubs where the shows at
Keep a show packed, ay, Yella Mack, where my dough at?
Herky got my quarter-0 sack and blunt papers
Quick to rip and rap roll that, my life saver
Playa hater hater, Lunatic rhyme maker
I'm the arm, the leg, the leg, arm, head maker
Call me when you finna' break up, you can't take a
I take curr (care) a that, it be ok when we wake up
Short so I gotta lay-up, no dunkin for me
I sport the ten, ain't no puntin for me
Murphy Lee the school boy's what you want me to be
So I'm a be that, for six D-I-G-I-Ts
I'm a L-U-N-A-T-I-C, 'bout to B-L-O-W-U-P, c'mon
[Chorus]
[Kyjuan]
Y'all be hatin a lot 'cause we makin a lot
I be's that nigga like Vacant Lot
I'm achin hot, check what you got to get in the spot
I'm takin a shot before I pull up on the lot
It's V.I.P. parkin, walked in sparkin
Ain't nobody chargin, feelin like a sergeant
They all linin up, all nines and up
And I better make my choice, the nights windin enough
Long skirt, cornrows, she's fine enough
Dressed in black, black suit and my brim be black
With a Cardinal bird on it, my team gon' blow
Nigga, I put my word on it, my team shoots well
That's if I had a curve on it, no standin in line (who, me?)
My coat got fur on it, I'm a slide right in
And I keep a room key, ain't no need for no pin
I got Sugar Daddy partyin wit' me, man, bring mo' friends
[Chorus]
[Nelly]
Check it
It ain't my fault I was born with Country Grammar and talk, ma'
No ma', I ain't hurt, that's just my walk, ma'
Slight limp son, you know, to Simpson
I keep it burgged out, play your cards right you get some
Call me Kane when ya sayin my name, the lips numb
I'm talkin brains in the back of the Range, (been done)
I be's like only five-ten, weighin one-seven-one
But if you close your eyes, swore you're gettin crushed by a bum
Be like ";oh Nelly, can I call you Mr. Hanes?";
Whichever one just made you came, then that'll be thy name