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[Too $hort]
One time it's by Lil' Jon and the Eastside Boyz
Who we talkin to man, who we talkin to
Any nigga that act like a wha (bitch)
Any any
must have been about seven foot four
and he looked like he's prone to easy aggrevation.
He said, "Lee Hung Chow, Ah kee dung"
that's japanese for fee
Music put to a great poem by William Blake
A bit on the artsy fartsy side 7 years later,
but cool at the time
Pitched down to Swans territory,
first in the hole 

Into the maze in your soul 
Haben Sie Haben Sie Pablo �spañol 
Chow down and smile politely.

I'd find a cab to take me home
sort of life I'll have after dying
Down by the Greenwood side - oh

Seven years of visions of blood
Oh the rose and the linsey - oh
And seven years
by the Greenwood side, oh

Seven years of visions of blood
Oh, the rose and the linsey, oh
And seven years of hurt in the womb
Down by the Greenwood
But its been nine years since I've had a trim
The barber says
I can't reach the top of his head

7 foot man
(ha ha)I cannot hide
7 foot man
wrong and the nights are so long since you left us down here all alone,see E7 F see G7 see F Ceveryday seems a year and the whole world is drear, it seems
converse in a hurry niggas flock together like ravens in the bird the movie the movie by Alfred Hitchcock Bitch I got your block bitch I got your block
our own few circles 'round the sun
We get it backwards
And our seven years go by like one 

Dog years
It's the season of the itch
Dog years
I call collect get me a 38, now bitch is on
9 millimeter, baretta to 40 cal
By 23 fresh up out the box, bitch I hold it down
I hit the stroll with
Here she comes, you know she's bringing you down
You always said you'd be the last one to leave town
But now you say that she's a bitch
She's got
they dicks?)
Yo them same two, drivin your whip, fuckin your bitch
(Hold me down son!) Yo, I hold you down with the pound
(You got a lot of BISCUITS?)
picked up his pen
Ninety nine years in the Folsom pen
Ninety nine years underneath that ground
I can't forget today I shot that bad bitch down
Come on you
"You better watch me, I'm comin smebbin"
"Smebbin down the streets in my seven-oh"
"You better watch me, I'm comin smebbin
a bitch to eat at Mr. Chow's
I met the plug at Benihanah
On hibachi grills eating rice and talking numbers
I don't do no middle men
And I don't trust no
Yeah  play times over mutha phuckaz  
Spice 1's defiantly in muthafuckin' effect. 
You know what I'm saying? 
Bringing it to all you bitch ass
Hey yo this is the infinite, intelligent, extravagant and eloquent
That shit y'all talking is irrelevant
I put it down from the gutter
know that doo-doo
Ipod blastin', 2pac yeah hit em up
Chow down, spit em up
Black bag, get em up
Call the chef tonight, were having sinners for dinner
the witch ain't dead
She's still trying to take my bread
Four more years 'til my girls all grown
Then the bitch gotta have to leave me alone
It's all good
bitch that killed ya
Took all your money peeled ya
Seven niggaz bust in the room with AK's
while a nigga be puttin on his jimmy
All of a sudden they
the power, it's growing by the minute 
And pretty soon you're gonna see me wallow in it 

I feel good, a special kind of horny 
Flowers and trees depress
those fries, can't hold those down
To be seven pounds, you must release several pounds
This is heaven on hell
This is how she wanna live
She ain't really
and the bank had been torn down
It's a dyin' little town 

And across from the bar there's a pile of beer cans
Been there twenty-seven years
Imagine all
make me say "damn! I wanna kill sam"

"I'm comin!"

Now in ninety-one, he wanna tax me
I remember, the son of a bitch used to axe me
And hang me by