Lyrics:
Man, this is the last.. record on the album
I got my man Craig Craig in the house
Kevin Dee from Midnight Express Crew's in the house
Charles'
sister be the first one to get smoked
Then I grab your grandma by her weave hair
And whip her old ass with that wooden leg she wear
I'm from the bloody
On the real I keep it real under the moon and the sun
It's in my DNA and blood live by the money and gun
Study Art Of War so every single battle is
of a paper cup
Something flew by, looked like a lightning bug
But I say firefly
My mama said if I could reach then I could touch the sky
And now I feel so
get me wrong, got four albums, stay consistent
You got a bodyguard, I let my nigga tote the biscuit
Twist ya cap back, you got blood off on ya fur hat
Contraception- Fuck it if I get screwed
By myself wit no aids I'll infect'em
Aye
Waving a weapon, I was raised by a parent
Who was Raised by a reverend straight
rock with it
You say I'm not with it
Take a man, he pop with it
Let's see you album, pop, get 'em
No introduction
Fuckin' his sister with seduction
Aye Rod, do or die, you revolutionized all styles of super fly
Suit & ties to every single Jordan, yeah, you knew the vibe
By the way, I still ain't
hats
And I don't like Proof, punk-ass, he think he tough
He keep thirty niggaz with him, cause he weak as fuck!
I ever catch you by yourself, I'ma fuck
by a Mack truck
And don't come around forty and front and get tapped up
Cracked up, can't wait 'till this album is wrapped up
I'mma take you
Nigga I want this money 'til it's rich
Buy my album
Guarded by 30 Section 3
Go against the grain
I got to pee
I know you don't recognize me now
I done
Uh
1st & (1st &) 15th (15th)
Woah, uh!
Lupe Fiasco's Food & Liquor
Is lovingly, hand-crafted and done
By the good folks, at 1st & 15th, yeah!
snitch
Hood nigga principles
Abide by it, live by it, die by it, nigga
Even when I'm finga fuckin' hoes
Finga on tha trigga diamonds in my crucifix
Feelin'
decline
I'll swing while my sisters sing for the brother
who's conducting thangs
[Chorus]
conducting thangs
oh eh ahh
I wrote a jam called Private
Tired of these rappers, tired of these jackers
I'm tired of these dances by these fuckin' backpackers
And I'm sick of all these hipsters, I'm sick
This album is dedicated
To all the people who are with me through the thick and thin
And will always be with me when I have nobody else
on the craziest wave, album's a classic and I hopped on the stage
Caught a few planes, my pen getting static those tiny lil rappers they better behave
I know they
on your fucking wall, necklace-wearing bitch
You don't want this money till it's rich
Buy my album, coded by Dirty, set you free
Go against the grain, I
Or be inspired
So lemme say this in case you tired
I'll be the greatest by the time I've died
Bitch I'll have a reign that conquers time
My next albums
Blinded by greatness and I been blinded by grace
Rip to my sister I been missin' your face
I know you're up in heaven so save me a space
You need to save me
said forget what you don't have, look at what you do
You got your, father, your mother, your sister, your brother
You three albums deep and plus you just
Before i go id like to say a few things. this album was completed on january 15th 1991. By now the war has probably started and a whole bunch
ran the red 'cause you were lookin' over at me
Wind in my hair, I was there
I remember it all too well
[Verse 3]
Photo album on the counter, your
well
We are some partying mothafuckas"
Tired of these rappers
Tired of these jackers
I'm tired of these dances
By these fucking backpackers
And I'm sick
.jpg/300px-Sister_Hazel_(2174716298).jpg "Sister Hazel")
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