This is my club song...it goes like this. Drugs? Of course there's drugs...you crazy?
Lazy Boy Recordz...Nuff Said.
www.soundclick.com/y2a
www.lbr4life.com
www.soundclick.com/kda11deuce
myspace.com/timothybiggins
FUCK TALK...SHIT SPEAKS FOR ITSELF AND FUCK THA HATERS CUZ WHEN YOU ON TOP JEALOUSY CLOUDS PEOPLES MINDS SO AS LONG AS YOU HATIN...I KNO IM STILL ON TOP.
Keep It Real.
Lyrics
Yo when I play my CD...they say Im playin myself// and I dont need to drink, my rhymes intoxicate myself// And you, and your grandkids and your grandma// Now take off ya shirt...and ya damn bra// This is for everyone whos sick of tha crap// I spent two weeks on coke now Im switchin to crack// Now you want a club banger Ima give it to you// But I need some weed, coke and a cigarette too// Im not showin respect to all of you vets// I can spit straight for 3 weeks all in one breath// Fake bitch, you so fake that you livin a myth// K told you once, ill hit you like im hittin a spliff// Whats tha difference, between you and me// When you say your on drugs, Im on two or three// Now theres a lot of mothafuckaz who wanna knock me out// I gave em my LP and they rock me now//
Yo who wants to party, pass tha bacardi// Who wants to get high I got a few pills// But if you aint with it then you aint gonna get it// Im too sick so let me show you how tha flu feels//
I used to get iced out, but Im sick of shiverin// Grab your attention like Im spittin liquid ritalin// Nutricional, vitamins// Vitamins and minerals, fight em I see you commin cuz at night visions periphial// I lay down tracks so you should see tha train commin// Im out of my mind, I can see my brain runnin// I cant catch it, its in all different directions// All this is aggression, its all killers intentions// They tell me Im supposed to make ya dance// Put on my shoes, take off tha Jason mask// So get out ya seat, get on ya feet// Listen to tha bitch on tha beat, sing for me//
Clap ya hands everybody, and everybody clap ya hands//
Now stomp ya feet like ya on tha seat and ya shittin out half ya ass//
Toddlers at cyphers need they diapers changed// Drop tha mic and recite with Y2A// Lift they visors actin like they seen tha light// no chance like cokeheads gettin sleep tonite// Baby read tha writing on ya contracts// lighting strikes twice finish em mortal kombat// All they moms act like I curse too much// Where tha fuck ya think your daughter learned to fuck// Wasn't me, I was too high to bend her out// Wouldnt give me brains, things changed, its better now// My battle raps get faxxed thats how I send em out// Suprised tha game, Y2As a contender now// Gimme a beat Ill get sick with it// Gimme some weed, papers Ill roll a nic with it// Fold or hit with it...thats black jack// I got three black gats and your mad wack// Betta back it up...you just suck like a vacuum does// Tha facts is you pack fudge and your rappin sucks// Fuckin ya motha and Ill stick it to ya fathers// Rippin ya tickets and get wicked at ya concerts// Rock a verse, man Ill rock three words// And Ill rock everybody on Gods green earth// Its a party, get them glasses filled up// Im stoned on shrooms and you kno Im pilled up//
Yo who wants to party, pass tha bacardi// Who wants to get high I got a few pills// But if you aint with it then you aint gonna get it// Im too sick so let me show you how tha flu feels//
Clap ya hands everybody, and everybody clap ya hands//
Now stomp ya feet like ya on tha seat and ya shittin out half ya ass//
