Lyrics:
Have you heard it the original wordsmith
Twenty four seven on a beat I deserve this
I'll first second and third it with the verses I have a purpose
seconds
Shit, I guess they want some mo'
Bitch
Now slyde, Bitch(x7)
Criss cross, step right
Slyde, now I'm jiggin' it
Lean left, rock right
Wipe me down in
pas de jokes, I'm not playing, j'essaye d'être plain
J'fais ça pour la zone
Hmm
Catching a vibe
Skheme just going on top
Gang in the stu tryna make
go)
I'm rockin' with seven-two, yeah, that's my fuckin' clique (Gang, gang)
Eating shrooms, smokin' zips
She suck me, she don't get shit (She don't get
the back, then pound it to submission
Then go right back to grilling up fire in the kitchen
Not even thinking bout slowing down, I'm speeding up
G seven's all
fucking cap
All out the fucking spot In all caps, bitch
I don't want your daps, bitch Hope you is catching this
Is you feeling this? Play the fool or be
a ghetto nigga's lullabye
A seven-deuce full of niggaz goes by
Thought I was trippin the second time they rolled, by
Recognized the plates, the faces
when the Xanny's don't work
And he panic, ears ringing, when you call he can't hear you
Every seven seconds, eyes back up in the rearview
Something
1 ounce, 2 blunts, 3 seconds
And I'm on the 4 oh 5 flying in my 6
Got a call from a 7, said she with a 9
If you add 'em up, that's more than
Y’all been dropping one by one the opps know that they had enough
No time to get into it if you broke go do some other stuff
[ Verse 1 ]
Man they
leaving soon
Second session within a fraction of a second
He’s sexing supermodel chick with no protection
Sweating driven by demons of misconception
One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight ...
I've got my clipboard, text books
Lead me to the station
Yeah, I'm off to the civil war
can't hold it down? oh the shit gon' hit the fan now
spin around let your whole crown man down man down
[Street Life]
I live by the street code
at the radio with DMX and Flex
Catching wreck while Noreaga was catching his breath
I had to keep the situation in check
Look at the vericose veins in my neck,
The magnificent seven
Ring, ring, it's 7:00 A.M.
Move yourself to go again
Cold water in the face
Brings you back to this awful place
the dooch powder
Summer's Eve, I drop degrees chill
Come four by four, lose one like Dru Hill
Stay fly till you air sick, now that's ill
Two choices,
Come four by four, lose one like Dru Hill
Stay fly 'til you air sick, now that's ill
Two choices, either squeeze or peel, now that's real
What
The love was real I never felt it before
Know we both were catching feelings
That we tried to ignore
So, play it cool, that was the move
Until you
on the mic
Copiers are not alike, bitch I went and got the life
I wanted at the proper price I bought it from the father I
Tossed the dice hoping for a seven
lay him on his back
Check how I smack wack rappers
Mac-11 take him off the map
In seven seconds sent to heaven with his brethren cause they lack
I laugh
They woulda never guessed it, and if they did they woulda did second, I’m on they head, I’m not a wig, but I could get measured, ain’t got no
second guessed, but guess what this is
That’s right– you getting cut
Let me tell ya a story about that one guy that came by
He was a guy from around
'em shook with the dress
Be the Kim of the group
Okayy
Six, meet the girls up
Seven,hit the club,get your groove on
Eight, head home drunk
Skrr Skrr
on the run
Am I catching up to fate?
Or will it catch me first? Yeah, that I'll have to face
I feel so alien and out of space
I'm runnin' out, but back in
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