[Intro: T.I.]
Okay, aye
Yeah, that's right
[Verse 1: T.I.]
Bitches kissin’ and huggin’, niggas trippin’ and buggin'n’
You out ya mind, I’m on my grind and I ain’t quittin’ for nothin’
Tell your mothers and uncles, brothers, sisters, and cousins
My flow so nasty, deranged, that nigga T.I.P is disgusting
Gotta grip on the game, quit your pullin’ and tuggin’
Cause I ain’t clinically sane, I go to pushin’ a button
They get to clickin’ and bustin’, you get to dippin’ and duckin’
They empty clips by the dozen, you come up missin’ for nothin’
Hey, I can triple your budget, I’m in the business of hustlin’
If we ain’t talkin’ about money, I say, “Let’s end the discussion”
Hate off my shoulders I’m brushin’, all the ladies are blushin’
They all love when I fuck ‘em, Blacks and Latinas and Russians
Tell ‘em, "Be easy," no rushin’, mastered the art of seduction
I let ‘em blow me so much head I can catch a concussion
Seven chicks in the bed, touchin’, lickin’, and suckin’
Dick ‘em into submission and then I send ‘em to truckin’
Cousin, we nothin’ alike, you can say what you like
Do all that huffin’ and puffin’, then run away from the fight
Don’t know who gettin' you hype when you sit and you write
The great imaginary life you only live on the mic
I’m who you’d die to be like, cause I’m so fly with it, nice
To live my life you’d have to try to hit the lottery twice
Find it amusing, I’m gigglin’ at what you made in a year
Quadruple that while in prison servin’ my day and a year, nigga
Hahahaha
[Interlude: Mos Def (Yasiin Bey)]
Wow, it’s on right now Buckhead to Bucksound
Boogie man and rubber band snappin'
Bang, listen
[Verse 2: Mos Def]
No retreat, no surrender
No gimmicks, no hoax, no jokes, no pretenders
Strategic moves that elude all defenders
Another one for them, tell them haters hold they temper
But tell 'em feel, how they feel? Fuck it, let it go
That’s ineffective though, I'm an effective show
It’s that incredible, and I own special dose
Extra flow, quiet dawg, rest assured, let them know
Off the chain, I was born unleashed
And walk when and where I feel when I’m ‘pon these streets
Spread love, Brooklyn on these streets
And I get it how I get it cause I’m from these streets
Holler back, your favorite Uncle Freak
D. Smith, keep swift from East End Di-strict
I touch your favorite rhythm and give it a me-mix
Could I flex how ya flex, go long, I mean this
Say it once, said it twice, you need this
That’s an affirmative, word to Big Bird, it is
1st and 15th, I got the fireworks, turn it in
Bonfire burn again, listen good and learn the hymn
Yay, and it's simple and plain
You feel it in your chest when the bass beat bang
Yay, and you know my style
I’m from the Killer K, known to take a money pile
Wow, we turn it on and turn it out
It get greater later and it's fantastic now
It go on and on and on and on
Everybody talkin' like the dude Black Dan'
[Interlude: B.o.B]
Yeah it’s B.o., B
Bobby Ray, international extraordinaire
Listen, uh
[Verse 3: B.o.B.]
I’m from the city where they hang out on the light pole
Tryin’ to get their weight up off ‘em, I ain’t talkin’ lipo
I’m talkin’ bout that city I take everywhere that I go
I do this for the niggas locked in solitary iso
Who grew up with kaleidoscopes, now they lookin’ through rifle scopes
Tryin’ to make it out the dark, that’s what we raise our lighters for
Smokin’ on that blue turf just like them boys in Idaho
I swear I’m eatin’ good playa, what you on that diet for?
I’m chillin’ with some fire hoes, so hot you’ll need a fire hose
Too much pussy on your payroll boy, you need to fire hoes
(You’re fired) That’s why my fans is who I’m ridin’ for
You swear they never tire cause they hands up the entire show
But what you hidin’ for? I’m speakin’ for your benefit
Me to you is like PlayStation 3 to SEGA Genesis
I have no archnemesis, I have no identity
I just go gorillas in your village and start pillaging
Your city, I still got it, I don’t need to babysit
I’m just magnificent like Magic back in ‘86
I told her, “Cook my eggs Benedict”
She say I’m gettin’ cocky, now I say, “I’ve been a dick”
[Outro: B.o.B]
Bitch, haha, haha, oh yeah
It's B-O, B-O, B-O, B-O-B
Grand Hustle, Eastside stand up
Decatur, Zone 6, uh
It's on lock
From the bottom to the top
It's real hip-hop
Nigga
compositores: B*tchbøy bob
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