Lyrics:
and a half million scanned by the second week
Mother fucker I hit em up
[D12 and Eminem spit on the next few verses. Proof goes first...]
I'm from Detroit's
Yeah, I got Mikey wit' me
Alright...you can hit me whenever
Any time you need
Aye
Ridin' down Lenox, 'bout 25 minutes after we
Took full advantage
That I was not up to par, when I followed my heart
Granted, my heart was tainted by my mind, I kept on sayin'
Where's the hits? You ain't got none
You
{Aight, what's goin on, what's goin on
What's the deal pa, where you headed son?}
(Yo I'm bout to go to the studio and lay smash hit
Wit my Uncle Run,
an album can change a nigga's life around
I got friends and bitches on my dick
But when they look at Richard all they see is Bushwick
Sometimes I don't know
that you do
Because stupid is how everybody sounded
Nigga you think you know me, but only if you knew me
Homie, you would leave me by my lonely
I'm
Violence is my business fool, the microphone of doom
Mission that's to cure all punks as I bust caps
Peelin your back, my ammunition hollow-point raps
You
government for the people, by the people'
What people? We ain't equal
Discriminated against for race, religion, education
And you call this a nation?
I'm
God given
This is hard livin', mixed with Cristal sippin'
It's the most consistent, Hov
Give you the most hits you can fit inside a whole disc
(yes)
It's like that man, it's like that (yes)
Check it
I'm not your average MC with the Joe Schmoe flow
If you don't know me by now, you'll never
a headache, like yankin domes with a straightening comb
When our bread brake, articles of artists who aren't as hard yo'
Partners by fathers, regardless they
feelin like the best, nobody fuckin with us
We done turned to a bygone don crew
We got the semi Kimora like Djimon Hounsou
A lifetime criminal, live by
I am holding onto you for the last time
Capsized, sinking, feeling like I made mistakes I must live by
Hoping that I'll find somebody new
Just
soldier shit
Keep on servin' 'em, 'cause you know we do work
Mashin'' in my Chevy down the streets of New York, they feel me
I smooth grip, and hit up
putting my ex in a song even though the last one went triple platinum
I'd rather put that energy into what's worth having
Like how I got a platinum album
from my sig
Leave a hole in you bigger than BIG
Nigga you dead, I know where Nori live
You live by Nori crib
You talkin' all that shit
Nigga you
and four chords repeated
Completed by a relatable lyrical concept about an ex or something
This isn't for the masses
It's for the
musically analytical
So
Death row, that's for these niggas, I'ma hit 'em up
Makaveli, it's All Eyez on Me
Pinkie rings, it's still M-O-B (M-M-M-Maybach Music)
I been tryin',
the pool with ya mama
Attack her by the legs then I pull her to the bottom
Twist nothin' up like a condom
Slap it if you fuckers got a problem
When I see
in the pool with ya mama
Attack her by the legs then I pull her to the bottom (yeah)
Twist nothin' up like a condom
Slap it if you fuckers got
eyes
Said whoever hit him for the average poor asshole
'Bout to be hit for they biggest surprise
Now meanwhile, still short on pot to piss in
Not
make profit
Off of shitty flows, jacked lines, get behind
You fuckers gone pay, I promise
Your music is making me nauseous
Got another album inside of my
light in the boot, get stuffed
Blue lights, they ain't got cure for the dust
I mean, some lie with the turbo tucked
East Legon, getting back seat love
If
to get popped by a cop?
Who the next n**** in the hood to get shot?
I hope it ain't me, so I'm strapped up in bulletproof
N**** on my stomach see -
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