Critics

Lyrics

[Intro] Man, listen My life ain't nothin' but a bunch of eggs, nigga I had to scramble to get to the sunny side, you feel me? Yeah Let's talk, nigga Uh [Verse 1] Tony Soprano, north New Jersey where the GOAT is at Gotham City, I'm right here where all the jokers at South Miami, Bal Harbour, that's where the boat is at Flea farms, we poppin', where the smokers at? But I'm in a nigga crib, money, yeah, he owed me that Now homie hidin' in the same place the coats is at Talkin' through the door, "All you gotta do is givе me that" AJ in the living room, grippin' on the mini MAC Veezo got his girl, hе about to let the semi clap Told him we about to put two where her memory at But she gave it up, told us where every penny at I said, "You could come out the closet now," like Jimmy Smacks No stoppin' this, me and money monogamous I promise this, try to come between it, apocalypse (Blaow) I'm a lion, tiger, wolf, rhinoceros (What are you?) You a liar, biter, herb, preposterous (Preposterous) No gossiping, I don't deal with side talk I don't look for spots, man, I park on the sidewalk I told the cop, "Tow it, I don't care, I like to risk it I'll have another car here before you write the ticket" [Chorus] Writers, critics, step aside with your shit My life is wicked, but you might just tick it What you say now? You can't have it all, have it all, baby Have it all, have it all, baby Writers, critics, step aside with your shit You can't have it all, have it all, baby Have it all, have it all, baby [Verse 2] I was one year, four months, right from the poor house (Writers, critics, step aside with your shit) Kept slidin' home, but cops would say, "You're out" (You can't have it all, have it all, baby) Now I get red carpet treatment at the whorehouse (Have it all, have it all, baby) Bent her over, wore it out, let's see what that jaw 'bout Sat in the bleachers, then I got in the game Used to sell leek at a bar called Bonita's Bananas, I survived the era of preacher Deacons, Reagan, now I got sneakers Drive by my old school, seen all my teachers Askin' for handouts, I ain't about to feed you I ain't even graduate, y'all ain't understand me I was like my hoes though, I stayed with a plan B Tammy, Brandy, for your nose, we had candy Cash makes me feel manly, Macho Man, Randy Gun shooters, dope dealers, go-getters, coke sellers That's who I'ma be with in my tent out at Coachella [Chorus] Writers, critics, step aside with your shit Gorilla, gets no realer Start the dancing, all the girls say, "Go, Killa" You can't have it all, have it all, baby Go, Killa Have it all, have it all, baby Hallelujah, baby Writers, critics Step aside with your shit You can't have it all, have it all, baby Have it all, have it all, baby Writers, critics Step aside with your shit You can't have it all, have it all, baby Have it all, have it all, baby