Lyrics:
[KRS One]
YES! Chillin in the place right now
Harmony and Heather be Ms. Melodie
DJ Jamal Ski DJ Kenny Parker
And of course we are gettin
Got funny n*ggas raisin' up and riders replacin' 'em
[Verse 15: Daz]
Draped in blue the notorious gangsta crew
RIP for n*ggas who don't stay true
Deep
I feel—I feel compelled to[01:40.71]I—I was inspired by other outros like Note to Self by J. Cole on 2014[01:51.24]I listen to the whole album top
blah!
You get shot up
Leavin wit' bitches after the club
You get shot up
Stuck at the light, sittin on dubs
You get shot up
Left for dead in your own
You can cut me five stacks, I might make you a album
That's if you don't suck, you do, I'm chargin' 15 thousand
The game don't stop, I got laced by Mic
an album in a while it's been a minute man
Took a couple shots I don't know where to begin
Shout out to the homies from Plano Senior High
Freestyle Friday
he got another year
Even the judge wanna see that nigga get cut in there (by a Blood)
Tekashi really told on all of his homies (he a rat)
His baby
music, get your glove, grip the snub music, the benz roof is the rims dubs duices, a lot of ya'll gonna starv tell cass eat, I did my hole album in 4
I've been giving a lot of hidden messages
Don't you miss it
I don't care whether you are making music in a studio
Or record radio album in your mom's
thugs from the R-O-C
Sigel Sigel in the house
Uh-huh, sick bastard
Get your wig pushed back by the wig push-backer
Uhh, uhh, Memph Bleek in
from the R-O-C
Sigel Sigel in the house
Uh-huh, sick bastard
Get your wig pushed back by the wig push-backer
uh, uh, Memph Bleek in the house
thugs from the R-O-C
Sigel Sigel in the house
Uh-huh, sick bastard
Get your wig pushed back by the wig push-backer
Uhh, uhh, Memph Bleek in
were stuffed in snow
Now my culture's pierced, by the greatest accountance I've ever known
It's nothing personal, hip-hop design has gotten vain,
So
wanna say my name in a lyric
You make an album to show your talent
But instead
Ghetts made Freedom of Speech and said
My name every two minutes
Man wanna
in it
You see they diss us, but they ain't hate us
They wanna say my name in a lyric
You make an album to show your talent
But instead
Ghetts made
of California hip hop
Where you can pop, lock, or you can get shot
Black, white, latin, asian, living in this melting pot
Throw up your W and it don't stop
Mack elevens and M-16's
High caliber, so why try it?
You live by it, so you die by it
A muthafuckin' gun...
[WC]
Who's the man with the strap in his
� with nipples and crotch
We toured - drive-bys on the mongoose with glocks
This ain't rhetorical, the story gets worse � you get shot
said they gon' DP me, I shot the fade
Now I'm gettin' head, I'm special ed, I got it made
This hot grave got me in LA, like 'Wop wave
I found out that
were stuffed in snow
Now my culture's pierced, by the greatest accountance I've ever known
It's nothing personal, hip-hop design has gotten vain,
So
friction when I flex up the jaw to hit the joint
That can actually give a blood mob like Gotti
Like the body cool keep the strap up by the naughties
with the painted out chrome
15's whippin' in the backside
With the boom boom boom that's how I ride
And Cha Ching I'm a player making ballas holla
I
Peep I gets a dub on the 1st and 15th for a fact
So instead of spending it up I gave my money to Jack
Now she jump in the regal and said i'll be
ain't just the deal
Why I'm in it for
My nigga pissed 'cause I ain't been to see him
I was in the lab
Working on my tape with Rich and Ian
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