Lyrics:
dirty
Went to hers
She wanted him
He wanted first to talk, not sin
No rum, no gin, no joint, no skin
She said
That's grim, I'd go for a fingering
Like
ruined, you get socked right on sight
And even at the Million Man March, we gon' fight
So you can suck my dick if you don't like my shit
'Cause I was
don't walk
And killers don't talk, get outlined in chalk
The onе who got away
The one who didn't get caught
For my Rydas, hatе us or you love us
We love
shit gets, hotter than Hell's Kitchen
When fingers itching, it's more scratching
The DJs practice mixing
It's not baseball, but we stay pitching
No waist
shit, every last one of my friends man!
Rush that shit
No more getting the snuff
'Cause tonight I'm rushin' the club!
Aye yo, so we get out the ten
It's been a long time comin'
But by the grace God I'm here now
Listen
Here we go Give them more Show them who we do this for
Raise your hands up
know how we do when the young niggas peel out
Don't squeal [undecipherable]
[Ice-T]
If you niggas don't know you should know by now
Ice got more
like that (I fell in love)
I know your burden gets bad, you take and carry my bags
We cry together, hold you down the days you broken and sad
And I'ma
ur back like a mighty titan.
(2nd verse)
We spend way too much time together. Kinda got me feeling like I deserve betta.
Remember when I told u no
streets
Homeboy you don't work, homeboy you don't eat
"You don't work, you can't eat"
[WC]
This record was put together by Jay Dee, Coolio, and the W
Eight,
it's been fun
That's what most of these folk'll say when they get done
They ain't lookin' for nothin more than a hit run
Goes for just about any guy, but
more
Sick and tired always feeling poor
We caught him lacking down by the store
But he was screaming that he want war
Leave his nigga on the boulevard
feelings? Then, fuck yours
It's a draw
Or you trying to double back you send some heat, we send some more
Fuck these bird ass hoes always trying to trick ya
outta this joint.
Woman: Frankie, when they get here wer're gonna be dead, I know we are! We don't have agun!
Frankie: Listen. We got three million...
drunk too much gin in
Your jaw starts grinnin', and this is the beginnin'
Of a night of an average Ho
It ain't all about working on the streets no more
cpocalypse
It's the apocalypse
It's the end of days
They're upon us
No more endo gin juice
Just hellfire brimstone
Whoa unto you
Dystopian prophet souting
tom
And when it comes to drugs
Uncle tom gotta bomb
Can I get a pop
Till the muthafukas stop
Sellin nat shit
That make the hoody drop
No more easy
tom
And when it comes to drugs
Uncle tom gotta bomb
Can I get a pop
Till the muthafukas stop
Sellin nat shit
That make the hoody drop
No more easy
yes
There's no real way to stop me, that's why y'all copy
I know you niggas ain't fuckin' with me
[Chorus]
Yea, I know, one more gin, bitch you
Split the sea across the ocean we go
No matter what we pushing
We get pulled in by the waves
Popping pills and bottles
Then we go our separate ways
one step at a time
Two by two
Henny for the motive
We sip it on a low
Gin and juice
Sip it on code
And its going down with me
I pray for more revenue
gettin' busy down in N-O
Gangsta's, get respect from me
And all you other niggaz gettin' checked by me
That's on the C, DPG will never break up
There's
the Devil get to tempting me, I only hear God
And my struggles help build me, so endear eyes
Lauryn we'll forever love you, you'll forever fill hearts...
With
surrounded by molls with whom he is openly
Flirting he is drunk fosco is sober and more
Reserved the croupier spins the
Wheel Glyde collects)
Black twenty six
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