oh baby How am I suppose to carry on, I find myself singing the same old song If you hear me, have it in ur heart but please come back to me (oh baby
is Saturday And Sunday comes after ... wards I don't want this weekend to end R-B, Rebecca Black So chillin' in the front seat (In the front seat) In the back seat (In the back
his back up against the wall Well, let's see how Rob B.O. handles this one Bad boys watch ya backs, watch ya backs bad boys Yo, who the fuck is this pagin' me
Yo, really let me roll some weed Mad charged nigga now I must proceed Yo, we 'bout to make you set speed Peace to Baby Phife, Q-Tip, Ali Shaheed Watch me
a seven-up but need a coca-cola loan, I'm in the hood like I'm James Evans, cashmere hand-made sweater, me and money got a vendetta, lookin' back to tell
earth to me that could be done The she backed off and teased me so I couldn't come Then she cold got stupid pushed me on the floor Had me beggin' to
my flow Be wise, the magnificence, evidence, decadence mind Seven sins, the abomination, I'm That nigga, last nigga, street mack Hot is my strap, wet is your back
in the club lookin' at niggas crazy and shit (Word, yeah fuck them body-o's homes) Motherfuckers is faggots (call me nigga?) (Ice-T) Step back it's the
This ain't no game to me, it's hollow fame to me Without respect from streets So I don't claim be the hardest motherfucker on earth Catch me slippin',
t ever fuck with the seventh bitch (Intro: Ras Kass) Yeah, seventh, uh-huh, first things first man you're messin' with the worst One, come on, come on
back from the riot Claimed he ain't never seen a nigga like that With Don and Cletus, we stepped about seven for two And I'm the meanest motherfucker
on your momma's couch mami All hustlers who ever bought a eighth from me Take this time out, to set the record straight for me 'Member me? Silver bullet
'm dwarfin' All competitors better get your girlfriend in check It's psychological warfare, endorphin's I effect Your self-esteem shatters as dialect Comes blastin' out your deck, she loves me
gonna get sunk You better sail off to the seven seas There's not enough room for you and for me (Once again, if you please) There's not enough room for you and for me
it 'til she sing a Bob Marley yet I like the way she keep it tight like she celibate She have me acting like a bedroom degenerate Turn on the charm and me
and go chill over Turks When me come back a still inna the hole me a lurk I remember those days when informer dirks Get one inna him face and me nuh
doing this shit Lil Tunechi or Young Tunafish Six foot, seven foot, eight foot bunch Six foot, seven foot, eight foot bunch I'm going back in Okay,
