Various Artists (verzamel cd's)
Various Artists (verzamel cd's) - There He Is lyrics
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Yes, ladies and gentlemen, Bobby Creekwater Today's host, today's narrator, yeah Today's what-the-fuck-ever you wanna call it But I need y'all to sit back and listen, listen, man An executive mind frame, fuck tryin' to rap Niggaz represent a corner, I refined the map Artesian water, this is flow untapped And rep for 'em like Mike on playoff night That's if the payoff right The dream team, Bobby Creek, Em, 50 and them We 'Run The City' like Diddy and them The opposition, we just pityin' them, it's no chance Put you niggaz in the Special Olympics, is no dance I'm nice like a meal twice, nigga, no grams Get them bitches out they pants, I did it with no hands See, one thing's for sure, I'm pure uncut Baby, you can either stay down or get gunned up Mr. Night Life, I can give you niggaz sun up I just get an order, let my niggaz pick the gun up That's when I bone ya, nigga, wake yo' punk ass up This is ammonia, fuck your face up Bitches won't even telephone ya I can space age pimpin', a pocket full of stone ya Ya dig? Take the world over, that's the gig Sell enough units have Paul and Jimmy dancin' the jig Roll the Maserati through the city, me and Riggs Bumpin' Obie Trice, shoot a bird at the pigs Ever since a nigga got rich Life is still a bitch but she a high class bitch I just wanna fuck with me a high class bitch Nigga pitch that on some eyeglass shit See I classic, enough to get the mics back right And I'm a fan of record sales, I don't like that hype I'm here to end it Oh Lord, that nigga mean, ain't he? Yeah, goddamn, that nigga clean, ain't he? Yeah, see he a greedy baby But some people tend to call him the return of Shady There he is, goddamn, that nigga clean, ain't he? Yeah, oh Lord, that nigga mean, ain't he? Yeah, see he a greedy baby But some people tend to call him the return of Shady Bobby Creek, Bobby Creek Yeah, yeah, nice like Mike, right, you niggaz soft as night light Diamond's a tall order, I'm just tryin' to get the hype right I'm throwed off, so hard, so soft, sold out Bought the Coupe, a color of nice weather and rolled out I can't hold out, hot like a fish fry Who the fuck is this guy? The ruler on the disc, I Hit you in your suit coolers, I'm in the Coupe, cooler Than pigskin men, base runners and hoop shooters A loose screw, ban money like the legendary Roots crew This is just the shit that I am used to Oh nah, I don't bust a chopper but I used to Now I put the word out, I'm sure you niggaz heard 'bout Young boss sold money, old school new paint Ball knowin', you can't give a fuck what you think Member of the mighty Shady Records, nigga, you ain't Think you fuckin' with me then double whatever you drink You can't fathom what the bitch throwin' at him Couple niggaz hatin' on him but the fans waitin' on him Like a PlayStation 3, money for your advance My vacation fee, ain't no use in hatin' me, nigga And don't shit talk pimp, I'd rather flush Anyone with big enough nuts to come and fuck with us I bust but keep in mind, pressure bust pipes And you niggaz wouldn't bust a grape in a fruit fight What the fuck? Yeah Oh Lord, that nigga mean, ain't he? Yeah, goddamn, that nigga clean, ain't he? Yeah, see he a greedy baby But some people tend to call him the return of Shady There he is, goddamn, that nigga clean, ain't he? Yeah, oh Lord, that nigga mean, ain't he? Yeah, see he a greedy baby But some people tend to call him the return of Shady Bobby Creek, Bobby Creek