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cameron grey - hello mr. west aka young larry bird aka m-i-great lyrics
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h-llo motherf-ckers, my name is cam grey
from the 937, came to annihilate
in my cape, light heavyweight primate
young larry bird in the game, thirty three words, m-i-great
take my talents down to south beach, birds migrate
sh-ttin’ on these cats, i just hope i don’t dehydrate
i can’t fly straight, two o’s and 4 lines on my plates
in other words, that my state (yeah)
i’ve been waiting on this my whole life
every motherf-ckin’ chance i get i roll the dice
a&r’s on the search for the great white hype
i’m a beast boy, put em on vanilla f-ckin’ ice
grew up in a house of pain
probably never last, half as long as everlast
i just wanna know what its like
and i’m mackin’ more, than mac, and macklemore
these bad b-tches wanna be my wife
cleanin’ my rifle’s and i light l’s, while you pray to the stars at night
wasting your time, i stay on my grind
i bet you’d find diamonds, if you mined my mind
i spit in braille, you feel it if blind
i’m marty mcfly commitin’ these crimes
no dna, like it’s pre ’85
i’m back to the future, ahead of my time
h-llo motherf-ckers, my name is cam grey
from the 937, came to annihilate
in my cape, light heavyweight primate
young larry bird in this game
i’m feelin f-ckin rude boy, puffin on my doob boy
change my att-tude, my motherf-ckin mood boy
i was smokin vapor at the cosmo out in vegas
ain’t no schoolboy q boy, focused on my loot boy
(pew pew), shoot if i have to
no blunts, on my flintstone sh-t you know a dab’ll do
chillin at the rosie, pool side, in cabana rooms
my b-tch look exactly like a young f-ckin vanna do
vanna on some other sh-t, she be kickin moon rocks
catch her on my mothership, with hologram 2 pac
my sh-t be too hot, sh-ttin’ on the sun hot
i’m pre b.i.g. and pac shot, i’m big league and pop rocks
i”m all yachts, i’m no cops
no 9 to 5, f-ck your boss
a 9 to 5 can’t buy a b-tch a nose job
hov told y’all better get them o’s off, that’s a little bit a different kind nose job
grow the green in the spring, can’t grow soft
got a dude that i know with a 9 to 5, that blows all of his dough on a o and hoe with a bl-w j-b
me, me, me – i’d rather have no job
no 9 to5, no 9 to 9
don’t hold the nine, no five and dime
don’t talk on the phone, that’s mime time, it’s mime time
so if they ask the jury did he (diddy), i ain’t doin’ shyne time
h-llo motherf-ckers, my name is cam grey
from the 937, came to annihilate
in my cape, light heavyweight primate
young larry bird in the game, thirty three words, m-i-great
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