Frankenberry Songtext
von Sean Price
Frankenberry Songtext
One for the money, two for the dough
Three for the paper, that′s all that I know
Broke with a job, a crook with the cash
You be hoping to God I don't put my foot in your ass
Got my foot on the gas, and I′m running the red
Put this pack in your ass, I just gun you dreads
Never go on the block, like I used to do
Why go on the block, I call up my niggas, boo
Mister boom bap rap whatever
The black leather match the black Nike Venoms
So nice that my wife be in em
Body the great grape ape
Probably break one eighth of your face off
Fake and soft, pa and I hate all of you
Punch you in the face now you able to taste barbecue
Hard to do this, I'm doing me
You can do what you do, just don't do it in front of P
Personally, it′s nothing personal
You send a verse for me, I′ll send a hearse to you
Clearly it's that, the realer you act
I′m actually one of the rappers that really can rap
One for the money, two for the dough
Three for the paper, that's all that I know
You call that a show, it′s more of a circus
You tryna hear Buck flow, still calling 'em nervous
You fall for the service, you fall on your face
Judging shit backwards, stop calling this case
Now I′m all in your space, cause I'm outta this world
And if I show what's on my plate, say goodbye to your girl
She really a bird, cause you′re giving her seeds
Then leave, now she expect the same shit from me
Please, use your knees for a stand
You got a big mouth, now who deeming my little man
Damn, it′s a new pedestal that I sit on
Son, I'mma shit on better stools
The tools that I use, two hammers
One for the nail in your coffin, the next for your life after
Personally, it′s nothing personal
You send a verse to me, I'll send a hearse to you
Clearly it′s that, the realer you act
I'm actually one of them rappers that really can rap
I′m actually one of them clappers that actually strapped
I'm actually running with Africans, trafficking smack
I'm actually smacking the nap off your faculty jack
Exploiting the Black, nigga nap Cadillac rap
Fake fuck, I will fuck up your face
Fuck face fingers, fuck trigger nigga the ape
Three for the paper, that′s all that I know
Broke with a job, a crook with the cash
You be hoping to God I don't put my foot in your ass
Got my foot on the gas, and I′m running the red
Put this pack in your ass, I just gun you dreads
Never go on the block, like I used to do
Why go on the block, I call up my niggas, boo
Mister boom bap rap whatever
The black leather match the black Nike Venoms
So nice that my wife be in em
Body the great grape ape
Probably break one eighth of your face off
Fake and soft, pa and I hate all of you
Punch you in the face now you able to taste barbecue
Hard to do this, I'm doing me
You can do what you do, just don't do it in front of P
Personally, it′s nothing personal
You send a verse for me, I′ll send a hearse to you
Clearly it's that, the realer you act
I′m actually one of the rappers that really can rap
One for the money, two for the dough
Three for the paper, that's all that I know
You call that a show, it′s more of a circus
You tryna hear Buck flow, still calling 'em nervous
You fall for the service, you fall on your face
Judging shit backwards, stop calling this case
Now I′m all in your space, cause I'm outta this world
And if I show what's on my plate, say goodbye to your girl
She really a bird, cause you′re giving her seeds
Then leave, now she expect the same shit from me
Please, use your knees for a stand
You got a big mouth, now who deeming my little man
Damn, it′s a new pedestal that I sit on
Son, I'mma shit on better stools
The tools that I use, two hammers
One for the nail in your coffin, the next for your life after
Personally, it′s nothing personal
You send a verse to me, I'll send a hearse to you
Clearly it′s that, the realer you act
I'm actually one of them rappers that really can rap
I′m actually one of them clappers that actually strapped
I'm actually running with Africans, trafficking smack
I'm actually smacking the nap off your faculty jack
Exploiting the Black, nigga nap Cadillac rap
Fake fuck, I will fuck up your face
Fuck face fingers, fuck trigger nigga the ape
Writer(s): Michael Peretta, Alan Maman, Sean Price Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com