Lyrics:
around
With them fake frowns, sell 'em on eBay
Get word to the DJ, tell 'em Staten Island's
In the house, put the record on replay
[Ghostface
to the politics
Articulate, but still'll
Grab a nigga by the collar quick
Whoever havin' problems with
Their record sales just hollow tip
If that don't work
Our sisters worth more than grinding on the wall half-naked
She a bitch, she a whore
And you rich and you shit on the poor
In all of your records
(It's not)
If I put you on game
It's cause you a looser
Cause you'll only win by me molding you
Tried get you within ten inches of a smile
(And now)
Tryna
funny how it hit's you
Your heart goes from broke to brand new
From so in love to so whatever
Ready to put it on the record
I can finally hear that song
never had a feeling like that
I got a reason, so man, put that record on again
I don't want to hear sad songs anymore
I only want to hear love songs
for props, tell your pops call the cops
See now I'm on the run, but still havin' fun
Livin' by the MAC, my gear is all black
I keep killin', because
for props, tell your pops call the cops
See now I'm on the run, but still havin' fun
Livin' by the MAC, my gear is all black
I keep killin', because
shit you kick be fake
Cause all my enemies, I put them suckers in their place
So take them shades up of your eyes, and look me in my fucking face
rap, it hurt me!
The new dojo, in beast mode, I'm John Crease, no mercy!
My saliva and spit could fly through a brick
Put your ass by a lighter
pounds
Wack ass actor, movie script killer
Fool don't you know, Quik is still the nigga
Compton psycho, boy you oughta quit
Your records don't hit,
still got sight
I'm on my road never glorify potholes
You get frightened
I put fight just to see you get by (yeah)
Up all night I still got sight
I'm
sickness
I gave a girl herpes in exchange for syphilis
Put my LP on your Christmas wish list
You want to get high, here bitch just sniff this
Cum
Hit The Record Button
Its Kocky baby
Yea
Hot Potato hot potato hot
PLEASE
Hot Daammit
Yea
If getting fresh its always W.E.T
Black drippage at its
highness, we
The dynasty, no one else been high as we
When you speak on me, you speaking to your highness, we
God blessed me and put me in position to hand
contrast to the rhythm from the start/
Headlong we part, and we'll meet again in roses/
Separate the art from the focus/
I put the needle to the record just
G-Unit man, G-Unit video games
G-Unit everything man
When, every magazine stand you walk
By you're gonna see me
Every time you turn on your TV, you're
You put your cleanest dirty shirt on
Then you stagger down to meet the dawn
You take a ride upon a bus, it's just a fuss
You know it keeps you
Name Will, I am Dub D the King going dumb on the mic
I got everyone hype by the shit that I write
All my fans say they like how I flow it's a vibe
I
ba-by
See I got my mind right, I'm a stay on the grind
I'm a put my work in
Get in where I fit in (Cause I hustle!)
Seven days of the week (I hustle!)
ba-by
See I got my mind right, I'm a stay on the grind
I'm a put my work in
Get in where I fit in (Cause I hustle!)
Seven days of the week (I hustle!)
on my hip, trunk full of that work
I say my shooters like Dirk
10 racks and you merked
I put that on your head, nigga
First week and you dead, nigga
I
[Hook:]
(Uh) Man verse by verse I'm a make these weak niggas'
disperse (sweet nigga)
Man I swear verse by verse I'm a make these weak rappers
put me in it, I win it
The mission is music and rhythm
Rhythm backed by words, all in my system
System by techniques, techniques I got my heart in
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