Can't keep runnin' away I must admit on some occasions I went out like a punk And a chump or a sucka or something to that effect Respect, I used to never
Uhh, do you take, rhymealinda Do you love me tre, do you really love me? To be your lawfully, wedded, wife? Uhhh, uhhhhh, I do, I do, no I don't, I
Little Sally Walker, sittin' in a saucer Oh, how I tossed that ass up Like a mission in the woods Woody woodpecker would if he could But I didn't want
Trapped in the cockpit at forty thousand feet The sky is the limit but we supersede The greed for the speed is like way beyond limits I grab my parachute
fuck us up but, shit, you know what's up We gotta get with the movement and move men soon They consume every womb who bares beneath the stairs of their doom Best
Let me freak the funk Obsolete is the punk that talk more junk than Sanford sells I jet propel at a rate that complice their mental state As I invade
yo yo, is eighty-seven in the house? Hell yeah! Is eighty eight in the house? (it's the master, the master) Hell yeah! So everybody's in the house? (pharcyde
A the T the L the I the P And everything I say be either fat or fly You best believe, I put in time to conceive Deep concentration from sunrise to eve
Yeah, bam, bam, bam, heyya, whassup, yeah We was like that you know Yeah, and I bet you got layed back Yeah, I'ma uh, I'm a just sit in here for a couple