.holler Frank Frasier .lyrical tank, Dizzee.com/going on stank It seems to be cars and cash and girls and head and manners On the flames, better keep
should have known better than to wear that stinky cologne "My baby left me, left me all alone" Damn straight I left you, you should have known better
chillin close behind all the motherfuckin way loc And I don't wanna see you act up but if anybody trip you better handle that shit [WC] Nah man fuck this
'ed out When we smoke out, 'cause we chromed out About to bomb out Here ye, here ye, calling all the hawgs Fresh outta the whole tank, bouncin' up the
ass, man In the streets of Warren, Michigan we call 'em tramp stamps That means she belongs to me, time to put the damn clamps Down and show this hussy who's the man
tanks, some fair size tanks But you're acting like a clown 'Cause man we've got Yanks, a mess of Yanks And you might get caught with your tanks down
he see it in my eyes Im trying to get the throne Wonder if the people know how many nights I spent alone Making beats writing rhymes, thinking deep fighting time Im getting better
why are you starin' at me? Matta fact, man, your eyes is wired, you inspired by Kendrick the king Maybe it's 'cause I'm livin' my dream, man, I sing
shit], you better sit Here's a word, of a third degree burn, so listen and learn You're missin a turn, so you better get, concerned my challenger, check
to protect the fam I'm a cock mine I make the streets run red like a stop sign, stop lying Co coi coi, clak clak clak clak clak Gun man music never
Revelations, don't stop keep on Sunshine, 'Ecstatic', flaco boogieman Standing in the sun, getting black as I want You playing good, man, that ain't backing
all day I dare you to pop a Blocka, I'm off my rocka I've lost my mind Silent, you better all findin, Hoffa Sick man brought my nine Sixth man off my
of control, never won an ESPY 'Bout to buy a black ghost and call that shit SP Glow outta this world, I'm coming for my Moon man You niggas slide back
cats who rock mack knowledge, knowledgists Street astrologists, light up the mic God, knowledge this Fly joints that carried your points, Corolla Motorola holder Play it God, he pack over the shoulder Chrome tanks
When you make contact, give me that gossip If you break contract, you'll be that hostage They gettin' busy and the city is raw Better dead bolt the door
movie usher Who is he? He or she - SFP Movies, CD's, and TV's, but uh-uh Cause today I take a break from that As I roll where a tank of gas'll take me
Crowd goes up and down like a yo-yo Hail the master the ruler over all Me to a mike like Shaq to a ball Tough like a ??tank?? not puffed like a filo
thugs, and rapper-dons Get in that ass, quick fast like ramadan It's that rap phenomenon Don-Dadda, fuck Poppa You got ta, call me, Francis M.H. White In tank