Ignant Shit

Yeah I appreciate your patience tonight It's been a moment since I've done some public speaking I find nowadays it's, you know, best to keep quiet But, uh, sometimes you just gotta let it out Young Angel and Young Lion, you know what it is Uh, look, I'm the property of October I ain't drive here, I got chauffeured Bring me champagne flutes, rosé and some shots over I think better when I'm not sober I smoke goodie, no glaucoma, I'm a stockholder Private flights back home, no stop over Still spittin' the shit that they shot Pac over The shit my mother looks shocked over Yeah, but with a canvas I'm the Group of Seven A migraine, take two Excedrin I'm the one twice over, I'm the new eleven And if I die I'm a do it reppin', I never do a second I swear niggas be eyeing me all hard And lying to they girls and driving the same cars Sitting there wishing they problems became ours 'Cause we have nothing in common since I done became star I done became bigger swerving writing in my peer's lane Same dudes that used to holler my engineer's name One touch I could make the drapes and the sheers change And show me the city that I without fear claim What I set seems to never extinguish Coolest kid out, baby, word to Chuck Inglish Count my own money, see the paper cut fingers My song is your girlfriend's waking-up ringer Haha, or alarm, or whatever She be here at six in the morn' if I let her But I never get attracted to fans 'Cause the eager beaver could be the collapse of a dam I always knew that I could figure How to get these label heads to offer 'em good figures And me doing them shows gettin' everyone nervous 'Cause them hipsters gon' have to get along with them hood niggas It's all good, I'm going off like lights when the show's over Make pasta, rent a movie, call hoes over Rest in peace to Heath Ledger, but I'm no joker I'll slow roast ya, got no holster Wet glass on your table, nigga, no coaster Burn bread everyday, boy, no toaster G and Tez got a SIG, but I'm no smoker They just handin' chips to me, nigga, no poker I'm with it, Young Money, Cash Money soldier My cup runneth over The same niggas I ball with I fall with On some southern drawl shit Rookie of the year, '06 Chris Paul shit D-R, CJ, and Po, I see y'all These cases don't work out, I hope we can agree on Making enough to pay any Judge Judy off First thing I'm a do is free Weezy, go And I'd take probation I don't want that T.I. and Vick vacation Private plane, pick location I'm going to the bank to make a big donation Yeah, I don't stunt, I stunt hard And if the food ain't on the stove I hunt for it But in the meantime you can call me young Roy Jones Jr. fighting the drugs and gun charge Shit, don't leave me unguarded And I'm a cheese head, word to Vince Lombardi Word to Marky Mark, leave a snitch departed All that blood like the red sea parted My gun go crazy, like it's retarded Red light on it, like it's recording I ain't recording, I'm just C-4ing My currency foreign We are in a league they aren't Better dig in your pocket and pay homage Better cover your eyes, your face fallin' Watch the game from the side, I'm play callin' No, I didn't say that I'm flawless But I damn sure don't tarnish My pistol got comments for your garments I'm so high I can vomit on a comet K-Y, no homo, I'm on it Weezy F Baby, new born bitch You know what they say 'bout when your palm itch I'm gon' get money, money I'm gon' get Young Money in your tummy and we gon' shit And get that toilet paper quick, like when Bones spit That's right, bitch, I'm back on my grown shit That Audemars Piguet, no ice, just chrome shit And your boyfriend softer than a foam pit I scream, "Fuck the world with a long dick!" Motherfucker, I'm me! Yeah, bitch, I'm me! You niggas sweet, like the pussy in which I eat Fireman burn down your entire street So fly I'ma take off when I leap Bye! Then you can suck my wings Stand on my money, head butt Yao Ming Put your hand in the oven if you touch my things I'm shuffling the cards, 'bout to cut my queens But I ain't the dealer House full of bitches, like Tila Tequila Yeah, I'm the man in the mirror My swagger just screaming, motherfucker, do you hear her? Yeah, Drizzy Drake what the lick read We make magic, boy, Roy and Siegfried Woo! Young mulah, baby Yeah