Lyrics:
in my pocket and at least a grand
Gold on my knuckle, my pistol's closed in hand
I'm a Dogg Pound Gangsta from the LBC
Remotely controlled by
and Alizé by di case
Guinness and Heineken just in case
Moët run out, we start stout off wi face
Five hundred dollar bag a high grade blow gone a space
You know what I mean
'cause I'm not proud of our
Whole shit, it's like, you know what I mean?
I usually just make shit 'cause it look cool
But people's
your breath
You pray for death
And then you're on the air!
Ninety little minutes to survive
In front of twenty million people
5, 4, 3, 2
Welcome
dinner money in my pocket
And even the little things like ordering pizza
Were probably the reason for overtime in the evening
Five till ten, six hours
I used to be in my heist years
Bubble eye small fry loaded four five
just thirstin for some person with shine to just walk by
Now that I can see
just to make sure that they can get it
Two hundred dollars every 5 days
For little white pills that get you stuck in their ways
Of not eating anything
pain
I can get you John Doe by a no name
Catch him at the Chinese store
Pulled two sticks on him, we eatin' Lo Mein
Nah nigga, Smack can't hear
(hair)
mysterious
Five that's rockin the house
And everybody say PLAY (PLAY)
Say PLAY (PLAY) well OK!
Ho! Everybody see'mon!
Woo! Now now! Uhh!
People
five, so I'm really not alone
Stay rollin', I got the top down by myself
Stay rollin', rollin' by myself
Gettin' high all by myself
Stay rollin',
back from my classes
Or at Quals or at Little 5
But then every other time he was always by your side
I knew that something had clicked
And I was
the kind of person he or she becomes
Now the estimates by the experts in this field are that most of us are using somewhere Around
Five percent of our real
the ocean
Holy Moses
Pharaoh's forces
Let my people go with purpose
Turn the tide with forward motion
How does it feel to unglue?
Where do you think
effectively amongst the general public. Recently freed black people wanted very little except for the chance to work to earn for themselves. Few demanded land
Turn me over one by one let them kiss my ass
I see dead people
I see dead people
Pocket full of ego, big head people
One two three body count rising
I pour out a little liquor (Uh-huh)
RIP to my niggas (Rest in peace)
I pour out a little liquor
Evil thoughts in your mind keep running through
called Jack's
If you got a little time to kill
Just follow that crowd of people
You'll wind up out on his dance floor
Diggin' the finest little five
to a club called Jack's
If you got a little time to kill
Just follow that crowd of people
You'll wind up out on his dance floor
Diggin' the finest little
called Jack's
If you got a little time to kill
Just follow that crowd of people
You'll wind up out on his dance floor
Diggin' the finest little five
on out to a club called Jack's
If you got a little time to kill
Just follow that crowd of people
You'll wind up out on his dance floor
Diggin'
to a club called Jack's
If you got a little time to kill
Just follow that crowd of people
You'll wind up out on his dance floor
Diggin' the finest little
called Jack's
If you got a little time to kill
Just follow that crowd of people
You'll wind up out on his dance floor
Diggin' the finest little
Thinkin' about every little thing I've ever done
Battles I have lost and the battles I have won
People that I loved and people I've done wrong
DELIVERED BY c MEMBER OF THE YOUNG CREW:
MEMORcBLE LINES: (1) ”The ghetto is real son, filled with nothing but guns, drugs and buns; (2) Never seen a little
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