Lyrics:
So it's really hard to tell a kid that he's goin under
I never thought I lived to see us chill
Crips and Bloods holdin hands, the shit is ill
But I
my frame of mind, to keep in mind the casualties
If that click click quick to trip, bitch it be the tragedy
S.P.V. we market thee
Down for doing what
was ugly all the sudden that b*tch proud of me
Knew i sold em mids he said its cool bro its loud to me
You just got good p*ssy dont you question why i
fit, tracks I'm bench-pressing
The mic chord is an extension of my intestine
Delicate MC's sliced in my delicatessan
My mind state is that of the S-P
with em
Think he a P but I'm right here limpin with em
Know where to find me, huh
Better ask someone
By my lonely, yeah
Pack of one
Trynna find
partied man, motha fuckers throwin' up,
motha fuckers fightin' and shitÂ…DJ was whackÂ…
damn bout to party by myself man. Just sit back here and chill out,
Where you from
Well I'm from the south of the south ,That's cool what you bout
Either makin' bread on the route Either rolling dank or I'm off
my number saved on speed dial
I know you do
Hit up my line anytime that you wanna chill and You need some fulfillin'
I give you that feelin' that you
style
static never had any so I'm packin a black
automatic pistol itchy by the C.I.A.
By the way, my display of rhymes that I will lay
down on wax,
record me
These bitches adore me wanna chill like its quarantine
But I can never trust these bitches that hoe is a cold piece
Getting blurpt by the police
trying to give you my time
She was like cool, fine, save my contact
Into your phone, if you're really that set on
Helping me out then you'd best not leave
from P-Long
Black Moon caught mad brooms and they done
Method Man, murdered by the same gun
Kool G. Rap lickin shot and KRS
But he didn't die fast
the furnace
I can chill and be cool, switch it up like a Thermos
She pulled up and ate me, then dipped, five stars for her service
Ain't want me back then, now
a bunch of used nails
We grew up in the church together nigga
Sunday school
Now I heard you off into jackin' nigga
That ain't even cool
I used
youngin' got life, stressin'
Wonderin' if we'll forget him
Back then for six racks, get 'em
Now times that by ten just for rentin'
It ain't 'bout
R.I.P. Juice
I don't know you we ain't friendly we ain't cool
Fuck your facts you ain't real
You just kissing on some ass for a deal
I get chills almost
If you ain't never stick around, then fuck how you feel
I'ma hide that nigga, I ain't got no chill
Uh, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Nah, nah, she been it
she for us
Rip up the track and I don't need no chorus
Stick to the code morris
U can't get saved by the bell
I pray to god that these niggas will chill
the best you will find
Living in C.I. who the hell am I
AJ Rok the juice, I get fly
Cool with the riffing guy, keep a handle
Cause if you don't I'll wax you
stopped, that's by any means
I just want the bread like a grocery store section
I'm a run it up, came through with a mob of hecklers, yeah
We worked
seen me at my worst, so now it's cool
When I seen my brother in that hearse
I turned a fool
I had them P's when I was in school
I know the streets is
copped on those calicos
Keep shittin, with ziplocks of that cali dro'
Keep hittin, and shift blocks for that cali dough
Keep gettin, my tip rocked by
calicos
Keep shittin, with ziplocks of that cali dro'
Keep hittin, and shift blocks for that cali dough
Keep gettin, my tip rocked by them cali hoes
It's
let's go chill by sea, nobody just you and me
Oh baby just take my hand
Don't let go and you'll see
That we was meant to be
I've never felt so free
Cause
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