Lyrics:
love for my nigga named Screw
The Key-C's in this bitch, my nigga Jonathan
I got about 6 or 7 pounds from him
He broke em all down and we all got high
love for my nigga named Screw
The Key-C's in this bitch, my nigga Jonathan
I got about 6 or 7 pounds from him
He broke em all down and we all got high
nigga named Screw
The Kici's in this bitch, my nigga Jonathan
I got about 6 or 7 pounds from him
He broke em all down and we all got high
And niggas dont
the back
And I'm feelin so true
Got much love for my nigga named Screw
The Kici's in this bitch, my nigga Jonathan
I got about 6 or 7 pounds from him
He
Verse One: Sadat X
This is the stick up boom music for styles to flow free
But y'all know it's me or could you tell by the spree
it's old Ninety-Seven You must put her in Spencer on time" Then he looked 'round and said to his black greasy fireman "Just shovel in a little more coal
They give him his orders at Monroe, Virginia
Sayin', "Steve you're way behind time
This is not Thirty-Eight, but it's old Ninety-Seven
You must
Well, they gave him his orders at Monroe, Virginia
Sayin', "Steve you're way behind time
This is not Thirty-Eight but it is old Ninety-Seven
you must
instrumental refrain.
Seven different members,
Meaning seven different names,
Meaning seven different mouths speaking seven different ways
All common goals
rewind the rhyme stick it in your eye
And let the old school open your mind one time
Seven different members,
Meaning seven different names,
Meaning seven
motherfuckin' Oscar
Answers first, questions later
Why so many questions, hater?
Spend your fucking day to day drinking fucking Hatorade
Waste away, sat inside
They give him his orders at Monroe, Virginia
Sayin', "Steve you're way behind time
This is not Thirty-Eight, but it's old Ninety-Seven
You must
Well, they gave him his orders at Monroe, Virginia
Said, Steve you're way behind time
This is not Thirty-Eight; this is old Ninety-Seven,
So put
Strange'
Lipstick on my collar, Oscar de la renta(y)
Your hijo pequeño, my nachos, bel grande
Stay sippin' that Andre
Spent 3 stacks, that's Andre
That
in all that grime? You have got The Clairvoyant, Prisoner, Heaven
Can Wait, released the 7th of November 1988 chart position number six! Yes!
You can't trust a big butt and a smile
No, that's the old style
In ninety two, shit ain't quite the same
Bitches got a brand new game, yo
It's
Man you hell of a pussy for
The shit you did last night
I could tell you nervous right now by
How you moving your hands right
Yeah please don't fuck
that I need those
I know I probably sound a little cocky when I'm saying that I can reach those
I been hot since ninety-seven, thats word to the man Ebro
with star 69
They say I say nothin'
That I'm corny and outdated
If I rapped in the '90s
I'd probably be famous
That the flow and the cadence is abrasive
that I need those
I know I probably sound a little cocky when I'm saying that I can reach those
I been hot since ninety-seven, thats word to the man Ebro
black like Batman in Gotham this Chico got the sauce like I’m sponsored by Goya, but I will kick your ass Oscar De La Hoya.
Don’t come around here acting
posted up on the corner by the 7
Tight grips extended clips black as our complexion
Militant men, machine wessons for protection
Seen stranger things but
mesmerized
The road to the top ain't in a straight line it's a big old mountain we've got to climb
Now we at the top the summit seems so bright
By the end
from wrongs
Thoughts floatin' out my brain, you won't catch me write a song
Three-five, three-seven, you won't catch me light a bong
'Rilla on my
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