Lyrics:
at the 'Kiss
'Cause I walk around with your whole advance on my wrist
Boning your women, drunk off Coronas and lemon
And you know I'm still writin' the mean,
the dope game
or the rap game
or what situation
your in my friend
there is no such thing as a fuckin friend
maybe you out to get them secretly
they out
with my nuts shaved
It's Sway and Tech, two disk jockeys
Breakin' so many friggin' needles, I wonder if they inject
Lo and behold, better than
they kinda fool me
Trying to fill my head with lies
I will keep on loving you
So no matter how they persecute
My decision through righteousness
some mountain dew, wha!?
A pack of zig zagz and a couple a brews
I cruise through in the blue 2 with the bass tubes
I too got the big bumps keep my
a breeze
When I ride by high
Sittin' on Tonas
Tearing up spots
And blocks in my hood ain't got no corners
'Cause we done chipped 'em all off a proper
Yeah, whoa
(Should a nigga plan a hit or grab my pistol grip)
(And take care my business 'cause they don't know who they fuckin' with)
(Should
a mobster thang
I'm a fat booty fuckin', love gettin' the sucks in and bustin'
Givin' niggas punkin heads for nothin', while bumpin', handle my functions
going rock with me
Keep me in line, keep me in check
Call me a loser, but mean like Beck
Always Joshing just like Peck
Never really coming for my neck
need a lighter
Been at the bottom I ain't fuckin like it
Goin for everything that I desire
If you ain't with it nigga we got a prollem
Tried to give my
the fucking rocker
Hit her with a slug then I had to fucking rock her
Damn I pull up in a fucking chopper
Let the blades hit make him sing like it's opera
Damn
backed by bullies who be peelin' caps
I sack a rapper like linebacker, play my rhyme backwards
You can hear the Devil speak his mind with fine graphics
Head up in the latest Porsche
Of course, and while she gobble me between the jaws
Money on my mind, lust devil bleedin' through my pores
Savage with
ain't fuckin' with me
Said, Yoshi, rock the chop, I just threw the switch on the fuckin' glizzy
Now I sound like a Hemi, boy, you would hate to be my
like best about myself is I detest my fuckin' self
Most days I can't find the energy to dress my fuckin' self
Yet somehow in this mess of self-indulgent
rock with us
Metallica
Competition no talent, hmm, in the jungle
What's wild enough?
Just might stumble upon a pack of lions
No lyin', my soldiers dyin',
huh
And all black with 23's on 'em
Nigga we rock that, yeah
[Baby]
I got my prada joggin' suit with my B's on
We alligator the seats with white tee's
up and down
Call her bouncing Betty
Any moment shes gonna come alive
Until the time she's ready
Tryna have sum fun with this lady
But my head is heavy
garments
Long trench coats with our hands in our pockets
Slappin' all you scary-ass rap artists, half-retarded
Swear by our forefathers
Anything you speak,
coats with our hands in our pockets
Slappin' all you scary-ass rap artists, half-retarded
Swear by our forefathers
Anything you speak, think, or show
Yute
Gold on ma teeth a help mi chew
Don't gotta tell us we jus do it
Am from a place call mountain view
Open niggaz head like Mountain Dew
ay rebirth
I'm the shit, she forgot my name was Too
Come in that party with a blick, catch me dancin' with my tool
I'm totin' five years, but gotta take that risk,
when I call I ain't tryna catch no feelin's
Dick rock hard, yeah I hit her with the buildin'
To all my haters I be mad too, you gotta watch this
Pull
She's the mutilator, music carnivore
Spinderella rocks the records with a chainsaw
You're still amazed by the way she plays
Not a fad but a phase
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