Innisfree (The ''I Ain't Yo' Fuckin' Butler'' Remix)

by Greg Hill

YO I gots to go now,
and git up to Innisfree
Contract me a little crib there
all flossin' an' shit.
Nine Beamers will I drive there
with bling bling for the honeys,
And live wit my homeys in my pimp new pad.

And I'll get me some Piece there,
and panties will drop like snow,
Dropping from rails and greased poles
where blond-haired bitches sing.
There midnight starts the evening
and noon's when I get up.
And even crackers will know my name an' shit.

Yo I gots to go now,
cuz every muthafuckin' day
I hear the po-po tapping
like Edgar's Raven at my door.
With gunshots on the roadway--
the 'Hood has gone to hell--
I hear it, I can't take no more

(See ''The Lake Isle of Innisfree'' by William Butler Yeats.)

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