Lyrics:
a Bible, I used to read the Gospel
Until I got betrayed by one of my twelve disciples
Which one, look through the crowd son
You could spot the traitor wit
seventeen doin' twenty, said it ain't so bad (nah)
Nah, homie, why your face look mad? (I'm good, big bro)
I'll be home by the time I'm thirty-five, just
can do is my lack of responses
Only rest that I do is "Where the rest of my commas?"
Still I rise, Maya Angelou vibes
When life comin' at you from
Earthquake houston we got a problem
I'm settin' your turf straight
Your troops I private piles 'em up
The holocaust (cost) you pay is Hitler's way
You dis me,
comeback's gone be something to see
I can't stand a hoe, on a TV show
That say I'm hispanic, or I'm Latino
Bitch you're a Mexican, say that shit
Why the fuck
I'm only in your city twenty hours, then I'm back out
You ain't got no beat in your car, where the speakers at?
It's gettin' cold as fuck outside,
your clock back woman when you see me comin' round
My feet don't, feet don't even touch the ground
Yah, ya know she's cold
Oh she's cold (cold)
Ya know
I just smoked a blunt
Ion want no smoke nearing me
Can't you see
Can feel the burn
Beneath my ribs like tyranny
Scary peaks
Ion want no hope
No
nigga, I get it, yeah, I'm on the way
Tip of the Texas, yeah, there's no delay
Told him I need that piece by Johnny Dang
Down in the valley, you know we
and still bangin (say what?)
You think you hardcore then come show me
Just make sure ya comin for real when ya come fo' me
Cuz if not, I'm floatin up yo'
right now I'm booing you
What did Kobe, Gigi and them other passengers do to you? (What they do?)
My condolences at this time is all I could offer
Kobe
winobill
Check the back of the Houston tax package dats
Sucka's want to step up you rap your girl's ???
I'm in here with wack MC's in the atmosphere
bet they feel me on these songs, huh
While I'm here I bet I'll rage, rage, rage
So liberatin', give a damn what you say
Please stand by
I love it
How you comin'
When we outside the Narcs be out
Tryna slide up on this bad lil' bitch and see what she bout
AR with the titties, no kickbackin' when
perfect
This is hostile not the gospel
Still apostles praise and worship
They must love the way I serve it
On my Houston shit I'm swervin'
If you seen me
raised the
G within the S and the C see my emblem peace I bring heat
Move the fam to holidays on sand
I'm tryna do this now comin' out the clouds
Comin
it, nigga wha? You want to playa hate nigga, wha?
Yea I'm Slip-n-Slide nigga wha? You betta give a fuck
Feel yo body penetratin' though ya gut
You
leavin' these motherfuckers shot
They ain't ready for the Nakamici
I flip this shit like I'm Kamaneze
Now dey a motherfuckin' see me
They try to breeze
her its a thrill everytime she choose
Houstons on a Tuesday, its rare you see me driving through but if you do just know im faded and its late
Well
on my flaws that I came with
(If you're talking about what you can feel)
I'm tearin' out my plugs like the matrix
(What you can smell, taste, and see
Happy holidays
Let me come here and talk to you
I gotta stop sayin' I'm not doin' this shit no more knowin' I'm cappin'
(Great John on the beat by
see me lean
I'm tint so it ain't easy to be seen
When you see me ride by they can see the glean
And my shine on the deck and the TV screen
Ride with
We'll puncture you
And watch you bleed
See I patrol the game daily
Like the cops do streets
I'm too beast, niggas we will rock you Queen
For real, it's
Houston, oh, she bought me a fur?
Far-fetched like glass teks and kiddie Rolex
Soon comin', but now it's time to kick the fun in
So where the ladies at?
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