There He Is (Album Version)

There He Is (Album Version)

Bobby Creekwater

Yesssss, ladies and gentlemen (yeah man)
Bobby Creekwater, today's host
Today's narrator, yeah
(We do this s*** every year around this time)
Today's what-the-f***-ever you wanna call it
But I need y'all to sit back, and listen
Listen man (f*** what you write man, just go get 'em)

An executive mindframe, f*** tryin' to rap
N****z represent a corner, I refined the map
Artesian water, this is flow untapped
And rep for 'em like Mike on playoff night; that's if the payoff right
The dream team, Bobby Creek, Em, 50 and them
We run the city like Diddy and them
The opposition we just pityin' them, it's no chance
Put you n****z in the Special Olympics is no dance
I'm nice like a meal twice, n**** no grams
Get them b****es out they pants, I did it with no hands!
See, one thing's for sure I'm pure uncut
Baby you can either stay down or get gunned up
Mr. Night Life, I can give you n****z sun up
I just get an order, let my n****z pick the gun up
That's when I bone ya, n**** wake yo' punk a** up
This is ammonia, f*** your face up
B****es won't even telephone ya
I can space age pimpin', a pocket full of stone ya
Ya dig? Take the world over that's the gig
Sell enough units have Paul and Jimmy dancin' the jig
Roll the Maserati through the city, me and Riggs
Bumpin' Obie Trice, shoot a bird at the pigs
Ever since a n**** got rich
Life is still a b**** but she a high cla** b****
I just wanna f*** with me a high cla** b****
N**** pitch that on some eyegla** s***
See I cla**ic, enough to get the mics back right
And I'm a fan of record sales, I don't like that hype
I'm here to end it

[Chorus]
Oh Lord that n**** mean, ain't he?
Yea, goddamn that n**** clean, ain't he?
Yea, see he a greedy baby
But some people tend to call him the return of Shady
There he is, goddamn that n**** clean, ain't he?
Yea, oh Lord that n**** mean, ain't he?
Yea, see he a greedy baby
But some people tend to call him the return of Shady
Bobby Creek, Bobby Creek

Yea, yeah
Nice like Mike right, you n****z soft as night lights
Diamond's a tall order I'm just tryin to get the hype right
I'm throwed off, so hard, so soft, sold out
Bought the Coupe a color of nice weather and rolled out
I can't hold out, hot like a fish fried
Who the f*** is this guy? The ruler on the disc I
Hit you in your suit coolers, I'm in the Coupe cooler
Than pigskin men base runners and hoop shooters
A loose screw ban money like the legendary Roots crew
This is just the s*** that I am used to
Oh nah, I don't bust a chopper but I used to
Now I put the word out - I'm sure you n****z heard 'bout
Young boss sold money, old school new paint
Ball knowin' you can't, give a f*** what you think
Member of the mighty Shady Records, n**** you ain't
Think you f***in' with me then double whatever you drink
You can't fathom what the b**** throwin' at him
Couple n****z hatin' on him but the fans waitin' on him
Like a, PlayStation 3, money for your advance
My vacation fee, ain't no use in hatin' me n****
And don't s***-talk pimp, I'd rather flush
Anyone with big enough nuts to come and f*** with us
I bust but keep in mind, pressure bust pipes
And you n****z wouldn't bust a grape in a fruit fight
What the f***? (yeah)

[Chorus]

Written by FRED BONGUSTO, ALAN MAMAN, ANTOINE ROGERS
Published by BIXIO MUSIC GROUP LTD

Lyrics Provided By LyricFind Inc.

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