Charles Hamilton - Ambitions Of Musicians lyrics
Live today like tomorrow homie just earn money hip-pop aint die man it just turned 20 ambitions of musicians of Tholonius Monk mixed with a lil punk for the homies to bump I am not a lil punk for the homies to jump scarface smokin blunts, while im holdin the pump so many hoes know me, I know what they want but I'm bobby at night, so I choke her for fun better yet, spreewell when I'm chokin' the coach you know, that the flow is dope, so don't even front you better say that I'm the truth, when I open my mouth I'm a ghost, that's why I got so many styles n***a pac won't leave me alone, he keep hauntin' me, tauntin' me, I ask him what the hell you want from me? he said "nothin I just need some new company, these other rappers still soundin' kind of dumb to me" so don't be scared if ever you think I grab at ya, I know it's creepy so what "I AIN'T MAD AT YA" this is written but off the top I'm the mad hatter, a bad boy, no wonder I see the mad rappers all I gotta do is spray 'em with mase, they just pimples, I'm noxema, they won't stay in my face they got a lot of opinions they wont say to my face I treat 'em like Bush do Mexicans, stay in your place I'm pink so why would I stay in a race but I black and these n***as can't stay in the race I'm a beast, catch me bathin' with apes, ridin' with lions, why are you lyin' playa you gay if you try to throw me a curve im makin' it straight, shorty try to throw me her curves man I stay gettin' laid I'm a cute pink carpet, I stay in her place and graffiti with the semen when I spray in her face using racial terms, I'm the ace of the spades, loon of the coons, more money for the porch monkeys I stack figures, translation, I'm dat n***a, rap sicka then all of you rap n***as I pop alot of sh** that much is obvious, I'm only nice with the wrappin' 'cause I got a gift and ya pockets need axe it aint got a scent, I'm pretty set in my ways so why I gotta dip you'll lukewarm and I am your father prick, no catholic priest, get off your fathers dick you pussies just love givin' alot of lip, well I'm abstinant, that's why you aint gotta hit I aint stupid, I paint lucid pictures, I make moves like that Frank Lucas n***a shoulda been in the march on Washington, but I'm a king, so march on Washington this is my year, from March on watch the kid, this that real chronic. go head you can spark it, get lit, this track is the looseleaf I was born to rip, I make it rain like Storm in a p**no flick made her leave her ex-man and get it on with him, call Micheal Buffer motherf**er get it on with him no h*mo, but you n***as climbing Brokeback mountain I'm so crack, you sold that, I hope that found 'em this is the product my n***a no back countin' you aint speakin' English, you the pope, that's wildin' you pop e and think you leadin' the faith, well I'm a can of Red-Bull, I can keep 'em awake I invest time in music, I guess I need more money, 'til then November 10th's the new 420, so roll up and get a hit of the piff, or buy yourself a Nixon lollipop and lick on a dick, b**h, and I f**ed up and I'm keepin' it ONE