Title : It's Good

Artist : Lil Wayne Drake Jadakiss


Who are rich and troubles are few

May come around to see my point of view

What price the crown of a King on his throne

When you’re chained in the dark all alone



I'm as real as they come, I follow the rules

I'm still in the hood but I probably should move

Made enough money, I don't fuck around

I just felt they needed me, so I stuck around

Feds got my man, shit is real son

Cause my god son just became my real son

Think life is a game but all you get is a turn

You live and you learn, either you freeze or you burn

Kush in the air, I'm pushing the gears

Love turned into hate, hate turned into fear

If it ain't right, I don't sign the deal

Shoot me in the watch, I got time to kill

Gasoline, propane, ain't no salary cap in the dope game

Ain't no collective bargaining on cocaine

So in other words nigga, do your thing



Mind in one place, heart in another

Please pardon my brother

He's just angry at you niggas

Who don't have your heart in your rap shit

And got too fuckin' comfy, 'cause we still fuckin' hungry

Young Money, got the munchies

Faded, fuckin' faded, aw yeah I'm fuckin' faded

They tellin' lies about me, aw yeah I must've made it

Rikers Island on this flow, eight months for that pistol

But at least they had some bad bitches workin' in that shit hole ah!

Three visits later, I went and did it major

So fuck the judge, and the jury, and the litigator

Watchin' all these kids who thought they had it figured out

And then November came, they let my nigga out ow



Stop playin', I ain't with that bullshit

Niggas act like bitches.

Shanaynay, oh my goodness

This is Wayne's World, and y'all are just some tourists

Give me three wishes, I wish, I wish, I wish, you would bitch

Brand new pussy, pussy good as baby powder

Two glock forty's, nigga you got eighty problems

Swimmin' in the money, Imma need some fuckin' goggles

Its better to give, but we don't give a fuck about 'em

I just came home, shit then got real hoe

Lil Weezy-ana, the boot nigga, steal toe

I ain't workin' with a full deck but I deal hoe

I just touched down, kick the motherfuckin' field goal

Talkin' 'bout baby money? I got your baby money

Kidnap your bitch, get that "how much you love your lady" money

I know you fake nigga, press your brakes nigga

I'll take you out, that's a date nigga

I'm a grown ass blood, stop playin' with me

Play asshole and get an ass whippin'

I think you pussy cat ha, hello kitty

I just throw the alley-oop to Drake Griffin

I lay 'em down, tempur-pedic

This shits a game of chess, you niggas think its cleavage

Its young money, yeah 'tis the season

I give you the business, bitch this a business meeting

My niggas hungry, my bitches greedy

Will I die a bloody murder? Dear Mr. Ouija

Nigga, I'm straight, my girl a fagot

Potato on the barrel, pop pop tater salad, ugh!


Written by
PARSONS, ALAN/WOOLFSON, ERIC NORMAN/CARTER, DWAYNE/LYON, ANDRE CHRISTOPHER/VALENZANO, MARCELLO/GRAHAM, AUBREY DRAKE/PREYAN, JERMAINE ANTHONY/PHILLIPS, LEE/PICKENS, BRIAN

Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., EMI Music Publishing, Universal Music Publishing Group
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind