boldy james – what’s the word lyrics
[verse 1]
hundred bottles last week, that’s a true story
riding around in my jeep with two forties
cashed out a half ki cause i’m into jewelry
just took a loss for fifteen, whole ‘nother story
devil got a couple suites and a few shorties
finna pop a couple e’s and do an orgy
at the avenue, as the diamond spins
the charlie backin’ in
the money on gorgeous
the whip matched the wheels, my diamonds so flawless
her -ss fat as h-ll and mommy so foreign
not as bad as her friend but they both gorgeous
they both got boyfriends and they saw norbit
but that’s how the world spin and the globe orbit
and the glove off
and i’m out with your girlfriend
and they both knowin’
that it’s over with
them concreatures blowin’ bricks
got that girl in so it ain’t nothin’ for me to blow
[hook]
what’s the word for the day
outside hand-to-hand serving them j’s
all night gettin’ on your nerves everyday
pitching hard white wishing for a bird when i pray
from the kitchen to the curb get a plate
report right do not disturb if you may
better walk like you can catch me stirring the yey
spinnin’ off white whippin’ ’til it turn into clay
[verse 2]
life is precious, a fat ugly b-tch that will get you wacked
it’s concrete evidence
if i died this second
or took a trip to that max correction, penetent
would you right me letters
or send a n-gga fl!cks
or would you act like you never knew i exist
that’s why i’m selective, you suck a d-ck
remember back a month ago, i wasn’t sh-t
now you gotta respect it, i run a mitt
and i can cash a bungalow with the upper-deck
you gotta lotta flip but i’m upper-deck
in the sky box where mike rocks double frets
in my high tops and i rock double s
chillin’ in the maybach with cyclops
and weapon x
i’m wolverine, that’s professor x
got the magneto, shoot it from the hip
cl!ck, quicker that pistol p maravich
[hook]
what’s the word for the day
outside hand-to-hand serving them j’s
all night gettin’ on your nerves everyday
pitching hard white wishing for a bird when i pray
from the kitchen to the curb get a plate
report right do not disturb if you may
better walk like you can catch me stirring the yey
spinnin’ off white whippin’ ’til it turn into clay
[verse 3]
the transition lenses in a buff
gotcha b-tch in a benz
finna give that p-ssy up
got me finna bust quicker than my album
it’s coming soon, go and pick that up
it’s checkout time, twist one up
lit the kush, and didn’t even let her hit the blunt
you a honey moon, i’m a big dipper
one of these days alice right in the kisser
small things to a giant, i don’t see the midgets
when he ran off on consignment i ain’t even miss ’em
i was jammin’ somewhere probably in the kitchen
same time he was rhyming i was out here in the trenches
why these n-gga lying, me and my n-ggas did it
and everything i write about n-gga i really lived it
it’s gang time, map on my fitted
cause money ain’t a problem, and neither is b-tches
[hook]
what’s the word for the day
outside hand-to-hand serving them j’s
all night gettin’ on your nerves everyday
pitching hard white wishing for a bird when i pray
from the kitchen to the curb get a plate
report right do not disturb if you may
better walk like you can catch me stirring the yey
spinnin’ off white whippin’ ’til it turn into clay
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