EMI Blackwood Inc. (BMI) - How Does it Feel? lyrics

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EMI Blackwood Inc. (BMI) - How Does it Feel? lyrics

Yessur!..haha..Lil'Skateboard P Hey! Mr.Vener! Ah-huh... Yo... Ola [Pharrell] Billionaire Club muchacho. Assorted flavors. And they zillatos Inspire young minds. I stack my nachos with the raw determination of a vato Run across the border with bricks in his poncho Face like a shot when it's bussin' by glocko Planted these things. Still I died when the Holy Father hand me my wings When I was young, yo, the teacher couldn't stand when we dreamed Givin' me music like d** and to hand to a fiend They shoot it up See me on the TV the cuties - they wanna f** Both residential that's plush and cooped it up Got more hits than a zip. Who want it nuh? I can go back in time you be Judge Ito. With my mini-torpedo I know you're thinking "neat-o!" It would peace the men. It's something like Antigo But it's three hundred thousand more with no re-mo Jacob and Lorraine, I used to deal with Tito But he clowned me and told me that my money's fritos Now the Enzo doors go up like a D-Lo.... Ree-on... same song sung by my man Nigo. SLR When the doors go up it's like a fresh L jar n***a we boss He shall not get hot he too frost. Yessur! [Hook] My n***a close your eyes. Just picture yourself just holdin' pies Implement a plan and you surely rise. This promised by the man that controls the skies Don't you see I know that sh** so ill. Better yet, doggie, just tell me how ya feel Ha-ha.. How you feel dawg?! We just picture, thinkin', dreamin', scheming, bleedin', readin', all in the late night Shake it, boilin', lacin', bakin', shapin', shavin', gotta get this cake right As I serve it, you just burn it, breathe it, learn it, now watch it take flight... n***a how does it feel? Ha-ha..Yessur! ) [Pharrell] n***a you don't know me I'm part Howard Hughes, part horny, part holy First trick on the ramp is the rockin' rollie Keep one on my staff with a new pro chromey It bequeaths me to mention that I've been bitten But affords me to chuckle at what critics have written He dresses insane - but his music admire Ask Anna Wintour from Vogue and Esquire And Vanity Fair. You like, kid of the year But you should guess who's in the insanity chair Now it ain't about what I want Still thumbin' through my life like it's d**tore p**n It's one thing to say that you did it It's one thing to lie about your digits It's one thing to say that you live it It's another for you f**ers to admit it But I admit I got all this paper plus the prettiest faces that's offered by nature I drive a cas'per, 'scuse me, Casper Wanna meet 'em in my house I got space like NASA But it don't make me happier, by itself, or sadder Or like my sister Stace when she lost her pappa Or Ben dad, getting' a stroke, and nothin' the Trapper John could do It's ironic but true - a man dies, baby born its fair as Peru It's a simple clue between us and imposters We hop in the air and don't care what it costs us Now I'm with N.E.R.D. with a pit full of moshers I guess you could say that we fly like saucers Zappin' at n***as, we're cla**in' at vigor The cash and crash whippers, the Thrasher mag gripper Go 'head and say it "You a rappin' a** n***a." Yessur! [Hook] [Pharrell] Yessur! n***a you don't know me...

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