Lyrics:
knee on his throat my nigga, if I was there to see would of smoked that pigga
Had us on the trees by a rope my nigga, Martin had a dream but I'm woke my
the whole ten dollars
Scotch taped with a razor blade
Taped to your collar
Leave the guns and the crack
And the knives alone
MC Lyte's on the microphone
Bum
that asshole
It's the big boy, king of the assholes
Crack jokes, at your expense, you a weak hoe
Even getting punked by nice guys like Nico
You know it's
Body goes wam
Hell comes down
Quit acting like a fan
Smash bang
Body goes wam
Hell comes down
Quit acting like a fan
(x2)
Verse 1:
Three blind men
me movin slow
All designers drugs got these hoes going dumb
Big bank take your hoe
Fucken dez hoes by the dozen
Maybach coupe recline
45 on me I keep
you for having over 2 bodies or not being Puritan
Funny how the worlds like the crucible but times ten
Killing each other for no God damn reason
"Shit"
Am tryna pop out so fresh on my birthday
My momma told me she gave birth to me
by 10 to 11pm in the night, am right
Young Nigga Fresh could you
Skipper Jones, Skipper Jones
Skipper Jones, Skipper Jones
JOnes Pantothop
Skipper Jones, bought a
TEN
Yo, check it out
I had a
I'm a skipper, spin
Rich X No
I'm popping shit for a min, I know they gone get tired of me
I be so high up in the clouds, they can't get higher than me
All that petty
sound of thunder when the big man shifts
"Run run", says the ruler slamming down the iron fist
Sound of wrist bones snapping when the naive resist
Crack
like nine P.M.
Phone tell me Imma get there around five 'till ten
I turn the music up and just continue traveling
So thirty minutes go by, I pull up
because i tell
Him to shake that laffy
Taffy that laffy taffy
Fuck rap, I've been rich
Crack by my stick shift
Oxy like concerts, always my bread first
Love my grandmamas, shout out grandmamas
Both of mine, you know, passed away, but forever in my heart, rest in peace
Mom and Pop tryna put a big
his life
Show you how a stoner can get Young turd, nigga, no fraud
I break scales, don't crack no car I was outside tryin' to make some shake
Nigga, I
and Wardens
Warnings Warrants on Wrists
Street Apostleship
Music of the Fatherless
If sucking dick records started making big figures
You'd have rapping X
buckin if you want, you gone get stamped up
You gone get these ten in a halves all in yo face
We gone take it outside and you gone be a case
You gettin ya
you bulletproof
Big time
And we both know you don't be doing
That shit that's in your rhymes
You ain't a G like me
You ain't the thug I be
You watered
future business (big)
Bodies drop, I can't get too specific (ha)
I sell the shit raw, I don't step on the crack like I'm superstitious (hahahaha, ah)
house
Big John on that goddamn bass
I'm 22 with a motherfuckin' beer belly
Some say I'm a OG already
When I was young I had the lust to pull
the morning!
I got big C-Style on the grill
Eastside! Keepin' it way real
Dogg Dogg, LBC
If you got beef, with DPG,
Then holla at me, the D-O-G
If you
right
By little kids with great game cause they learned to take aim
At a young age, and to allude police, with a fake name
he's tellin him, i'm Bobby
could bleed in a pot
And make a soup that’d go
For 10 dollars a pot
En la calle
On a collision course with incarceration
Consumed by the lies
and kept a stack on him
Pulled over one night and his man stashed cracks on him
See he was wanted and his fam started flipping on him
His mind was haunted
the influence
Okay, young back, spin around, I'm mixed up
Say Hi, crack you in the mouth and kick dust
Big truck, roll up in the window for pick-up
Order
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