Lyrics
Niggas, I'm still grinding (yeah), I still hearing those sirens
I'm still getting chased by those lights
Only the light's lime, and my mic's on
And my time is none, because I'm writing more
And I ain't here to meet a soul in this business
I'm here to eat, speak, until these hoes feel this (for sure)
And I can't let y'all derail me, man
I got Young Kobe homey, you gotta let go of Obie
Cause Obie be back, (going nowhere, man) we got them craps going on
And that yac going on, soon as a nigga touch down, back from touring
It's whatever, put that on the cheddar, man
But in the meantime, it's Jimmy Iovine time
Chase cheese, rhyme 'til my voice give out
This is it my niggas, this what we boast about
Now I'm here, so shut your motherfucking mouth, and show me love, bitch

I just wanna love ya
For the rest of my life (I don't love you, bitch)
I wanna hold you in the mornin'
Hold you through the night
I just wanna love ya
For the rest of my life
I wanna hold you in the mornin'
Hold you through the night

There's a certain mystique when I speak, that you notice
Cause that's sort of unique cause you know it's me
My poetry's deep, and I'm Stillmatic, the way I flow to this beat
You can't sit still, it's like trying to smoke crack and go to sleep
I'm strapped, it's known any minute I could snap
I'm the equivalent of what would happen if Bush rapped
I bully these rappers so bad lyrically
It ain't even funny, I ain't even hungry, it ain't even money
You can't pay me enough for you to play me
It's cockamanie you just ain't zanie enough to rock with Shady
My noodle is cock-a-doodle, my clock's coo-coo
I got screws loose, yea the whole kit and caboodle, I'm just brutal
It's no rumor, I'm numero uno, assume it
There's no humor in it no more, you know
I'm rolling with a swollen bowling ball in my bag
You need a fag to come and tear a new hole in my ass, you better love me, bitch

I just wanna love ya
For the rest of my life
I wanna hold you in the mornin'
Hold you through the night (and all the bitches say)
I just wanna love ya
For the rest of my life
I wanna hold you in the mornin'
Hold you through the night

My buzz is crazy in the hood, they holla my name
If it ain't about the flow, it's 'bout the stones and the chain
If I was you, I'd love me too, I roll like a boss
Nine eleven Porsche same color as cranberry sauce
I ain't gon' front, I thought R. Kelly was the shit
Let me find out he fucking 'round with Bow Wow bitch
Niggas eating popcorn right, rewinding the tape
Now shorty mama in the precinct, hollering rape
I'm convinced, man, something really wrong with these ho's
I thought Lil' Kim was hot, 'til she start fucking with her nose
I used to listen to Lauryn Hill, and tap my feet
Then the bitch put out a CD and didn't have no beats
That boy D'Angelo, he determined not to fail
That nigga went butt-ass, for his record to sell
My back shots 'll help Ashanti hit them high notes
And Big been taught Charli B'More to deep throat (yea)

I just wanna love ya
For the rest of my life
I wanna hold you in the mornin'
Hold you through the night
I just wanna love ya
For the rest of my life
I wanna hold you in the mornin'
Hold you through the night

Copyright: Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Universal Music Publishing Group
Writer(s): Curtis James Jackson, Luis Edgardo Resto, Marshall B. III Mathers, Obie Trice, Steven Lee King




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