Lyrics:
Michael Smith, Eric Taylor and David Olney
Written by Tim Grimm
Published by Steel Cabinet Music (BMI) Admin. in Europe by Cridecoeur Music
Driving Rarris 'round the city do that on a daily
Got here by myself ain't nobody made me
But I still can't stop thinking bout the
Time when we were living
the Killahs ain't risk game and the flow's so accurate
Anything's possible, black, you mad profitable
Waste no time, breath, air on popping you
Put you
get your hands high
And tonight it's no stress get your hands high
If you with who you love get your hands high, get em up
Keep a good time on stand by
Woo! Woo
This is (Yeah ’93 baby, Quinsum gimme some)
A world (Hallelujah, holla back)
Premiere (One time for the drop)
Shorty—Shorty
Yella—Yella
and our
Days turned into nights
Can I still come by your place?
Yeah, just to tell you one more time
I want you to know
I want you to know
[Pre chorus]
And I just lost a best
Friend for the second time
Now I'm on a quest to find peace
Still gotta carry my piece and
"Soo Woo!" when it's reppin' time
Y'all
a nigga by the west end
Ion trust him steady speakin
Cuz a nigga really bout it
Keep my pistol on my outfit
Smith in Wesson in the back
But toat a draco
smitten by the smith and Weston's
I'm tryna spit so I dont end up in another death wish
Me and myself tryna get it, ya jerk
I'm the black Benji from
materializin through the speaker
Comin to the surface - eureka
The final stage of a cycle movin at such high speed
That by the time it's perceived
It's already
Some days I just want to up and call it quits
I feel like I'm surrounded by a wall of bricks
Every time I go to get up I just fall in pits
My
or fall I stand tall you're small in fact
Step aside, you might get fried
By the super technique that the rapper applied
As a matter of fact, the impact
Some days I just want to up and call it quits
I feel like I'm surrounded by a wall of bricks
Every time I go to get up I just fall in pits
My
[Ratcliffe]
The gold of Cortés
The jewels of Pizarro
Will seem like mere trinkets
By this time tomorrow
The gold we find here
Will dwarf them by far
deliver
Uh, out in Russia you might shiver
See the moonshine inside my liver
George shot Lenny by the river
(Uh)
Dipping tobacco inside of my lip
a y'all
By the time I started rhymin' in the late eighties
The drugs in Cali was crazy
[Chali 2na]
Nine-teen eighty
Nine's the number this is
another proper crack
and it's phat, watch the sniper, time to pay the piper
and let that real shit provoke, so you's a wanna be 'loc
and you'll get smoked
to blow off, call me Ray Smith
Bet you tryna see how I live here is my location
Pull up, pull up, pull up why you such the long faces
I dont have time for
Smith & Wesson
If I think he makin' confessions
(He tellin', he rat)
And bitch, no, I can't even lie (No)
It's a G on the end of this fye (Bah)
Put
Ten million dollars later I'm a blessing, nigga
How a nigga rich but still stressing, nigga
Glock-40, Smith & Wesson, nigga
Streets will never ever
of duckin' one time
I told my nigga give me a price, he said love
They gon' be gone by the night like they Suge
We need a bride for this Glock 'cause we
the one, I've come undone
Now even though I've been shunned by everyone
They got it for me
These my bars, this my life
Kind of hard, this my strife
Find
the cracks by habit, that's a position that I done mastered
Exercise my mind, if they got questions, I got answers
Stand to scrape to the sky, 'cause my
I used to carry a Glock on the waist line, man I don't waste time!
I'm strong on the bass line, you'll never taste mine!
See me on the screen,
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