been hit wit the sharp part'a the hammer Mixin' Hennessey and Fanta with Pepto and Mylanta I shoot to kill like I'm hollerin' "Die Santa" Miss the tree and hit Rudolph and
once And die and come back as vanilla ice's son And walk around the rest of my life spit on And kicked and hit with shit, every time i sung Like r kelly
comin through in a nigga trunk is tha nigga named Tru and I got that boy Key-C in here and that boy Poyo and these hoes ear and we comin through wit that
call Santana Hit Jim on the hip Cam on the celly We gon' call Ace I get 'em for R.Kelly That's seventeen a chicken I know the birdman 140th and Lenix
back home Sit back and relax, readin my poems While the sunlight hit and gleam off the stones It's only natural, I want castles and black jewels I want statues and
(R. Kelly) January Boy (Talking) Hail Mary Full Of Grace Hail Mary Full Of Grace Hail Mary Full Of Grace I Swear That's What She Said Shawty Looking
another one And another one, And another one, And another one Uhh, what, what? [Chorus - R. Kelly & The Notorous B.I.G.] You must be used to me spendin And
you spend time with your woman and listen It shines more than any bagguette diamond can glisten I can't impress you with the cars and the wealth Cause any woman with will and
With Puff' Yo, I started out in Iraq the wrong route More chickens to doubt more money to count Yo my Swiss account with more cheese amount It's still piling and
big belly 'Cause I freak the funk like my man R. Kelly So give me that honey love You know what I'm thinking of Joe's the man with the master plan I got more
into nights man and burn for twice as long Cause when my pen brushes the pad with an art form that microphones And every county 'cross the nation, every house and
hobby and job And when I come and bring the ruckus suckers duck and then dodge The King of Rock, what? That be my hobby and job And when I come and
, Bishop keep doing songs with R. Kelly, Mentally you niggas can't even get with me I done lost everything but my killing spree Macc and Tech we be
legs, and cock the booty, spread the pink fa-rutti Not Ray Moore, no matress here, baby on the floor With helmets and mask, and grease up in that anus
ain't dissin' you dog, I'm dismissin' you Get the R. Kelly tape and see how we piss on you That's Kool-Aid, Mountain Dew, and Cris on you Ya family will
show you how to get back more And the shit that you get back is just as raw Girl, I can show you how to hit that Ave With that big fat ass and go get
Ya Bad Side You On The Bad Side Hey And You Dont Wanna See My Bad Side You Would Want To Be My Allie And I Believe That I Can Fly Not Like R Kelly
it is, and that's how I'm livin' I bring turmoil like Mike and Robin Givens And watch me go off a-go off A yes, yes, y'all, and show off and show off,