Teksty:
Clark Roy

bus From York to Jersey City, women and child alone Noww that's pressure, mom's got to go to work, drop me off By Obesa momma, aunt DeDe, whoever aunt Falma, uncle Roy

's gone keep it coming It's time to hit it up, so she could eat it up She on the floor, she acting bad it's time to beat it up Because it's supercalifragilisticexpealidoshious The game is sick, off the chain, ferocious Like Roy

to blaze, bungee jump off a building with no rope The Game ain't no joke That Bruce Wayne shit will get yo ass laid out I'm Clark Kent Under dark tint

is not her man My baby just cares for me My baby don't care for Mr. Tibbits She'd rather have me around to kibitz Roy Rogers is not her style And even Clark

call from Tony Young Montana, my son campaignin' Yup, I'm not no fuckin' bellboy, I war anything out there The ring is mine, you can tell Roy That's when

hit it up, so she could eat it up She on the floor, she acting bad it's time to beat it up Because it's super-califragilistic expe-alidoshious The game is sick, off the chain, ferocious Like Roy

, I'm unknown like Jaga And for the common denominator, a microphone breaker Bone hard, rolling the Boulevard A nigga be talking down, the nigga be getting scarred Piece and chain to the flo', with a thoed Roy