im standin.. for the rap gods..
(andre) i to earn wings but, i think i grew horns and maybe thats why mc's me like porn flowin like the in the mississippi river i suppose it grows in the sipper, thank me to do a show, and we tryin to do a palace, a midnight jet, my roams off to dallas, its somethin cream when we hustle on the scene other mc's and freaks wanna the team dealers would fly, ride the engines of the colors were candy coated, incredible and my of what people sayin, dont get a job i now it was all the rap gods i slither through the streets like a boa on my car dashboard got the gangsta sportin leather and energy , could be me? smokin weed to run DMC? my repute a rap child, emotions of steel represent with no crew man, your is sealed add a two's of all kinds, with gun in em' see notes dont last long, we cant to spin em' oh cars, and bars, weed, greed, and maintain my women, clown the rest of these man, my festive up the truth of a rhyme after on jeopardy to my lifetime grind im like an angel thats high weed up in heaven we're as crooked as reverends, b-ball playground triangle, some say bang goes, stars fangle cold as chris krango, we break hearts and crack rib praps, trips far shop at the gap, ten by the rap shoot the git, so i blessed it with some weed, bacon, and grits i can block the sun, like a my said he had a yaght but i dont mess with ships the freak, said she hated dope dealers, they they ends, i which is why ur payin this rapper then nickatina, im something simbad the sailor dress in red and black, the true signs of a