Lyrics:
softly
I wouldn't leave a trace if I died and police chalked me
Who's the Boss G? You better radio the walkie talkie
For these Fatal Attract MC's that
leave a trace if I died and police chalked me
Who's the Boss G? You better radio the walkie talkie
For these Fatal Attract MC's that stalk me
Got a big
She better not crash
Over here waiting on you sitting out of commission
She said chill out my nigga just kick it
'Cause Lord knows I don't need
flies too low
You watched me burn
Toys with your thumb between my hands
It will would be the last one, I' ever meet your demands
24-7 on a big screen,
sinkin' you better float
'Cause I'm big pimpin' this big business bitch I can flow
I get green
Shit so fuckin' clean
I'm blowin' off steam
Whatchu mean?
You
down the alleyway
Lookin' for a new friend
The man in the coonskin cap
In the big pen
Wants eleven dollar bills
But you only got ten
Maggie comes
like that gold on a rose shit from the swap meet
It's real, man, it's real
This shit ain't real, man
You better get the fuck outta here and come back
it again
You better duck down the alley way
Looking' for a new friend
The man in the coon-skin cap
In the big pen
Wants eleven dollar bills
You
it again
You better duck down the alley way
Looking' for a new friend
The man in the coon-skin cap
In the big pen
Wants eleven dollar bills
You
Get you right up close near it
Possessed by the Eazy-E spirit
Ice-T set the limit
And niggas won't cross this line
suicide - and niggas won't cross
I'm dead, like eggs we would scramble every mornin'
Holla at red, LAX, we landin' at four
Me and Loc use to stand by the store
Hope the cameras was
I got this wine on my mind
feelin fine darlin
Now all you see baby
ain't what you need baby
I wanna know just how low
it goes
Official nasty
I got this wine on my mind
Feelin fine darlin
Now all you see baby
Ain't what you need baby
I want to know just how low
It goes
Official nasty
ass nigga, you better do numbers
I ain't gotta rap, I'ma do numbers
A big shoot out on the highway
Jeezy hangin' out the coupe, lettin' it ride
what hit him
God forbid I ride or go and get him
Ima go and get it
The shit that they said you could never
Do what you got to do to do better
Better
Game is mind
So I sit back and recline
You better recognize
I caught them haters by surprise
Game on in the zone
I'm stacking Platinum Plats
Who I be
for president
Warning, people gon be offended by the verse
But all that's tellin me is I'm the truth cause I hurt
Dollar dollar bill y'all/ that's what
the greatest
You need to be the rhyme capital of the game
To do it
Talk about something
Other then big bills n sex
Cause really that ain't you
Is it
Let me be
-Big Mike how you livin
Big Mike
I've been sellin out the same dope house since the age of 16
Shufflin crack like cards, to these burnt out dope
Aye yall
This is DJ Drew
And I'm bout to get into a new record
By man Big Haze produced by King James
The One
Uh my bitches hella photogenic
I'm the king of my city yeah I'm talking big facts
Even if I'm not now nigga I'm get that
You ain't gang so need you pass like it's Six flags
that you cannot see that
But what I got here is the bees knees
Y'all stealing lyrics from Jeezy
But my shit is fresher than Fiji
And I'm getting better
Legit call me genuine
Niggas know im too real
Bullets leave your body scarred
Not even wolverine can heal
Boy you better slow your role
Like when
proceed, bumpin' that that Californication, by the Red Hot
Fuck around and then hit 'em with a red dot
Y'all better not me fuckin' with me
Who, him? Yeah,
.jpg/259px-Big_Bill_Broonzy_(1951_publicity_photo).jpg "Big Bill Broonzy")
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