believe you're makin' a baller have a fit Trippin', switchin' past my clique Lick that juicy, ask my clique Stretch them jeans, girl, make them fit Make me go outside
undo They lie in wait for you We live them till they're true Manhattan, doobie doo Hey Manhattan! Doobie doo Some days you've got to get outside Look
Grass is something you smoke Birds are something you shag Take your year in Provence And shove it up your arse Your Ladbroke Grove looks turn me on, yeah With roach burns in designer dresses Skin stretched
them off, please! Hey!) So the moment has come To grab my rubber duckie (Oooh, not outside! Please!) While the sheep take my chum Time to shuffle off to dreamland (Not outside
memories of their wasted wings Outside the cage I see my brother, John He turns his head so slowly 'round I cry out, 'Help" before he can be gone And he looks
deep pussy I got chip from trying to get the whole cookie Used to make a thousand dollars everytime I played hookie Dwayne Carter absent keep looking
a billy goat Remember being really broke You should see my safe boy That thing look like a jewelry store Money grow like chia pets I just gotta get it wet Stretch
robbery of my freestyles as a hobby I pick apart monkey brains and spread disease through hot zones My cameos on promos seem strange like someone's not home Bigg Jus the outsider
four in the mornin' The suns comin' up and the birds are out singing I let myself into my pad Wind myself up that spiral staircase An' stretch out nice
Off Section A, Momma In The Other Rooms Cryin B'cause She Got Bills To Pay, And It Aint No Chores To Play, Only Thing To Outside Is A Sand Box And A
guest he lovin whats left. Chorus {Fred} i remember one mornin i was cookin the O, and out the blue i heard a knock at the do'. i looked through the
my world welcome welcome [Verse 2 (Fred)] I remember 1 morning when i was cooking tha O out tha blue i heard a knock @ tha door i looked through tha
drough wound under sleeves i hope you have room in a thicket of vines give me a moment to clean what you've stole the streets will hang high stretch
job Said travellers will trick you But you will find out all them things for yourself Yes you will Findlay he threw me the keys As he walked outside
feel moved to my feet Outside it's Church Street where all the people sing Hail to the King of oblivion And he looks around him And he finds himself
my toys My dooley, on twenty-two inch chrome alloys Got a bourbon that I stretched to fit twenty-four people Call me chico with security that look like
the sky. Bigger than anything you've ever seen before. And on the corner of the mountain, you look closely and you see a tiny speck. And the closer you look