Latoya Jackson Lyrics

Yo, stop frontin' (Yeah)
And use your head, let's go

Clap with the O'Toole
Tre Deuce, that take you back to the old school
Pain that is raw, Rudy, rap, and gin, uh
If Kane battled raw, Kool G Rap would win
Better than most, veteran spoke the truth
In the booth, little youth need boots
I'm loadin' the four, homie
Gun son niggas now go to the store for me, haha
No doubt, Sean is the veteran, better than most out, most out
Better B-boy
Beam me up Scottie, this shotty's for Leonard Nimoy
Sell crack in Iraq, that's the desert D-boy
Pocketless sweatpants, dammit the man Leroy (Leroy)
Rap rules peasants
Pa, I'm gettin' the, ah, the Black Bone record, P

Yo, stop frontin', and use your head
Yo, stop frontin', and use your head
Yo, stop, stop, stop frontin'
Yo-yo, stop, stop frontin'
Yo, stop, stop frontin' and use your head-head

Bruh, your whole life's a letdown
Your dawgs call you a bitch, bitches don't call you
Rats call you a snitch, snitches call you connect
Your baby mom's a street bum who still calls collect (Hello?)
Vamps bite, wolves take chunks from my neck
You Twilight, I'm Michael J. Fox in his prime
Cujo flow for niggas slobberin' and barkin'
Sandlot, Bambino's ballin' a beast (Beast)
Shittin' on your plans to walk the yard where we eat
Roshambo your kids, airbag your seats, pricks
Still cop nicks to smoke these
High grade when hittin' it works like old cheese
You be at the liquor store sellin' burned DVDs
My life cold as ice, Rick James, Teena Marie
Used to be the smart guy, T. Mowry
Now you caught me, turn to be test for Maury, P

Yo, stop frontin', and use your head
Yo, stop frontin', and use your head
Yo, stop, stop, stop frontin'
Y-yo, stop, stop frontin'
Yo, stop, stop frontin' and use your head

Yo, the opera anthem, shots are random, opps were standard
The gold package a old rapper with tantrums
Can't be dumb, handfuls of chrysanthemums
All linen, lookin' like women
P a vet, grow hair out, it's a Chia Pet
We expect you to dress just like Madia, yep
Uh, Denaun shook ya ego
Slave to the rhythm, peep the god book of negroes
Deploy the fashion
Wack dresses, shit that's tattered, Latoya Jackson
Rap solely with the fam'
Smoked out, broke, ravioli in the can
Two cans of pink salmon
Take the bones out, the chromes out them like Malcolm
(That's a negro that's out of his mind)
Seen flow developin'
Bank flow low though, Franco-American, uh
American Werewolf in London
Lookin' for The Beatles and dressin' like Don Cheadle, P

Go, go, go, go
Ho, hey, ho, hey