Lyrics:
in my MC school, my class is packed
And tricks are for kids so I left your ass back.
The bow-legged brother, there'll never be another.
I buy a mansion
Come from a good family, god bless
Problem child I brought them all stress
If I Acheive my goals and gain success
Givin' everyone a mil, fuck
by vision of my bone
Made me feel this chick was on
She said (I'm bored I ain't did nothin but lay round the house all week)
And so I said in my
in my MC school, my class is packed
And tricks are for kids so I left your ass back.
The bow-legged brother, there'll never be another.
I buy
do the math on $5.15 an hour full time after taxes
That wasn't good enough to keep my MO
Shit that wasn't good enough to complete my demo, for real
to cope!
It's not always good just to get by
Who's coverin' ya stakes when ya bet high?
You're cha-sin', cars, clothes and rocks
Identify with the goods
can't trust not a
Soul inside these streets
I made a video out there in Copenhagen
So the homies can see
To let 'em know it's more
Than just Pamela Lee
(Great John on the beat by the way)
I was on tour for four months we was overseas (Greenlight Gang)
Did fifty-five shows in forty-five countries (woah)
keep me good
I do it for the hustler cause I do it for the thugs
I do it for the G's cause the G's show me love
I came in the game 17 real loud only
just usin' you for yo' cash (Good for you)
I get it now, the people like when I talk about it (What?)
It's that time of the year, so I'ma talk about
being covered by Dr Feelgood on their 1993 album The Feelgood Factor, the last they did with with Lee Brilleaux. They became good friends of ours, and Lee
pants saggin', fuckin' ya goose
I'm like nothin' to you
dumpin' the Rug' and your group in a red coog'
jump in the Isuzu and cruise
blank tints,
Ayo check this out son
This is my man Nas Escobar
And I go by the name of Cormega you know
(you gonna get your self murdered)
Yo check this out
is such a beagle
Never trust a weasel
We avoid all evil
This ones for the Christians
You know we on a mission
We won't ever give in
Got that holy
would probably be hysterical
For 25 years she seen me be a miracle
Seen me come a long way just by being lyrical
Naw I ain't act religious but God know me
want static? Punk, don't trip
Dope beats laid by DJ Slip
My lyrics go good with the groove
And while you're dazed, I pull a jack move
My rep never lets,
I never ever cherish
Nothin I can have back
Thankful for my life though
I wish I could stash that
Shit I'm just livin at the speed of light
Ballin
destined to rise like the Son of Rebecca
Don't stop for a second
Every man reckon, it sure would be good to be there
Whether Zion or Mecca
When the gates
the cruel people
Baby, that ain't nothin' but trouble
I always taught you that you could have whatever you dream
Well, I want you to hold on to that dream,
the cruel people
Baby, that ain't nothin' but trouble
I always taught you that you could have whatever you dream
Well, I want you to hold on to that dream,
Went from Bourne Identity to Bourne Supremacy
These cats are little ornaments
That fall off eventually
Good or bad, every time I rhyme
They wanna
the old school
88 fade
Press PLAY
I live by the old rules
Like the old school eses
Boyle Heights
PRIMO
Orale!
Big Luis
RIP OG Jose Solis
One for the town
for the town
East 14th
Roddy Romel
And Papa Joe
East Bay
With the Dragons
Eddie Black
What's happenin
Southside
With the bro XO
Petro
We was smokin
Shady did it, he sold out the whole dang stadium
Joe Shmoe made it, he took his Plain Jane lady
And his baby Hailie out the trailer but he ain't
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