Lyrics:
faking statistics
These niggas be leaving they lipstick
On top of my dick tip
Pussy I whiff it from miles away
I will never work with niggas that do
out she ass
Niggas will envy you and try to get you blast
I got jacked once thank God that I’m blessed
Gun cocked to face visioning my death
Learn
great
Act soft you will get beat
On death row they got their own hot seat
For those who feel that they are truly elite
The last thing you see's a priest
And once you marked for death than your ass is smoked
Cause niggas dying young in the ghetto
Gang banging that can get you 40 to life
So choose your
Ugh I won't go out like no sucker ugh
Like the bitch real, low key that bitch ill
Sometime that bitch will, pull the trigger that bitch kill
I ain't
the buckshot
[Sounds of gunfire]
That's how I like to do work
[Gunfire again]
Got guts on my T-shirt
Motherfuckers tried to play the ice
Because I rhyme
think it's time you did
Something that scares you
In death will you part with your conscience
In death will your conscience fall apart
This is the last
test
By God I'm blessed
I'm fresh to death
The city that never sleeps
Getting money til I rest
Jonez
Chorus
Come from a city that never sleeps,
Too
I dry erase existance and Ishkur
Whispers to me that the kiss of death is
Not the answer for fixing ignorance
You bitch should just zip your lips
just give it up
You tried to beat me in a game that I made up
And by the time you learnt the rules and tried to change your fate
Its too little too late
the work, kill the connect
You look dry so we leaving you wet
I don't care if I'm sentenced to death
I'ma still get dough 'til my very last breath
to work
I must to bust two nuts back to bay
Never seen a bitch work head like that
She had me jumpin' out of my seat
Workin' her jaws to the beat
She
Death of a sucker part one, too hot
Backspace comma, at the beach in the Bahamas
With a 45 tucked in my pants like a condom
Haters don't want it man
You
Juro - The Heat (Produced by Infinitee)
[Verse - Juro]
I'm bringing the fire, not maybe
This world could make you feel crazy
Work ethic never
Them cops I got stopped by they Corrupt too
Shoot a black and get a paid leave that Ain't nothing new
I done seen a hater hate a player for a Buck or two
The style
of the rap makes your hands clap Take care sucker 'cause the lines
are
strapped They mean business no time for play If you bite a line they
that's like my uncle getting approved for credit
I do it to death
When I start hooking right you be hanging a left
Check out the only crew
That makes
anyway
Knowledge over
Fun and lethargy
Grind baby
Work gets me off
Let's get it
Why why so fucking serious
Because
This is fucking war
A bullet to end my
why'knowutumsayin?
Damn!
Suckers, I go for broke so don't choke on the smoke.
Cause if I hit the chronic, Eiht starts the rap bionic.
So enough with that punk shit.
a bullet in a couple of these suckers
Riding in the south of Oxnard causing ruckus
I prayed to god for some new shoes but that didn't work
So I had to get
Ain't no comparing ya; dope as a bitch
I'm talking dog food; kibbles & bits
If it make money then it make sense
Heard that shit, went by that since
Work
gotta tell me?
Claiming that you love me when you kissed another fella?
Drove you home from work was when you broke it to me slow
Without a second thought
(Look Out) she put in work, she put in work
Dame, that girl fine, body designed, so divine
I got to grind to make her mine, by the end of this rhyme
If
shit
And I don't give a damn
Roll up, your eye will get swoll up
Suckers who flexed
Yo, their deaths got tolled up
Cause I'm not the nigga to toy with
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