There He Is - Bobby Creekwater

Bobby Creekwater, today’s host

Today’s narrator, yeah

(We do this shit every year around this time)

Today’s what-the-fuck-ever you wanna call it

But I need y’all to sit back, and listen

Listen, man (fuck what you write man, just go get 'em)

An executive mindframe, fuck tryin' to rap

Niggas 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 niggas in the Special Olympics, it’s no dance

I’m nice like a meal twice, nigga, no grands

Get them bitches out they pants—I did it with no hands

See, one thing’s for sure, I’m pure uncut

Pimpin', you can either stay down or get gunned up

Mr. Night Life, I can give you niggas sun up

I just get an order, let my niggas pick the gun up

That’s one up on ya, nigga, wake yo' punk ass up

This is ammonia, fuck your face up

Bitches 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 nigga got rich

Life is still a bitch but she a high-class bitch

I just wanna fuck with me a high-class bitch

Nigga, pitch that on some eyeglass shit

See I classic, 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

Oh Lord, that nigga mean, ain’t he?

Yeah

Goddamn, that nigga clean, ain’t he?

Yeah

See, he a greedy baby

But some people tend to call him the return of Shady

There he is — goddamn that nigga clean, ain’t he?

Yeah

Yea, oh Lord, that nigga mean, ain’t he?

Yeah

See, he a greedy baby

But some people tend to call him the return of Shady

Bobby Creek, Bobby Creek…

Yeah, yeah

Nice like Mike right, you niggas 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 fry

Who the fuck is this guy?

The ruler on the disc I

Hit you in your soup coolers, I’m in the Coupe cooler

Than pigskin men, base runners, and hoop shooters

A loose screw, band money like The Legendary Roots Crew

This is just the shit 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 niggas heard about

Young boss, old money, old school new paint

Ball knowin' you can’t, give a fuck what you think

Member of the mighty Shady Records, nigga, you ain’t

Think you fuckin' with me then double whatever you drink

You can’t fathom what the bitches throwin' at him

Couple niggas 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, nigga

And don’t shit-talk pimp, I’d rather flush

Anyone with big enough nuts to come and fuck with us

I bust but keep in mind, pressure bust pipes

And you niggas wouldn’t bust a grape in a fruit fight

What the fuck?

(yeah)

Oh Lord, that nigga mean, ain’t he?

Yeah

Goddamn, that nigga clean, ain’t he?

Yeah

See, he a greedy baby

But some people tend to call him the return of Shady

There he is — goddamn, that nigga clean, ain’t he?

Yeah

Yea, oh Lord, that nigga mean, ain’t he?

Yeah

See, he a greedy baby

But some people tend to call him the return of Shady

Bobby Creek, Bobby Creek…