Lyrics:
supposed to
We guaranteed this gon sell 'cause this shit's the bumbell nigga
[Chorus: (Tech N9ne)] X 2
(Ba bum)
This shit is heated (Ba bum)
Your shit's
blues
We got them bandz bandz, racks on racks times 2
Getting all this money and it comes automatic
Diamonds on the wrist it’ll leave you asthmatic
Got mo
ya
cll this money ya gave me the blues now hey
Oh yuh what it do now
She want roll with the crew but I need two now (Hey)
Bring yo friend bed time
Throw me the bomb, I'm goin deep
Open your ears and close your eyes but don't sleep
[ VERSE 2 ]
My name is often mispronounced
I'm simply known
the impression
Everything I drop, out of the question, stop the guessin'
It's hot, flows provin' I pack 'cause my dough's movin'
My whole crew up in this
of the question, stop the guessin
it's hot, flows provin I pack cause my dough's movin
My whole crew up in this muh'fucker
We spray corners, stand there like you got
world and this realm is great
We rock this power at my command
The decibels exceed the limits human ears can stand
The lower frequency better known
And say what is this
A gang of player niggas
That's out for dough
Getting money 24
Lil' hawk fo' sho'
Geah
[lil hawk]
Peeping my nigga
We fucking hoes by
Why wasn't they able to control this?
I know some folk that live by the levee
That keep on telling me they heard explosions
Same shit happened back
Everything ain't always what it seems
Never is it black or white but somewhere in between
Many shades a grey in this life I have to ponder
Let my mind wander
cars (Cars)
Have to love them ratchet bitches (bitches), they get 2 Live with the Crew (Crew)
Make them pop that pussy open (open), man I feel like Uncle
existent
It took way too long for time to come and fix this
Sometimes I wish you were here by my side
Late nights on my rooftop gazing up at the sky
Looking
any click that's winnin' any crew
Doin' whatever's trendy, even they leave me too
Ain't enough room in this town
What is beef between ghetto word
any click that's winnin' any crew
Doin' whatever's trendy, even they leave me too
Ain't enough room in this town
What is beef between ghetto word
phone they're gonna be tracking it
If they want my guns i'ma be grabbing 'em and racking it
This is a country that was founded on that belief
That
out this
The type of music we creep 2 lISTEN
Word is bond - i grew
Up stepping over crack vials
15 running round tryin 2 act wild
Toe 2 toe - blow 4
off in this bitch
No ceilings fuck ha, now we do what we do
And I go by Witty we record as a crew
Gonna stay here all night past
A quarter to two
And if
own two
No crew just see what this Mac-11 gon do
Plenty bodies gon be dropping soon
As I come through
Hop out let it rip head slugs go threw
of your lives have led you up to this
Driven, if not by fame, then avarice
Thaumas in rage, salacious
Thirsty for blood berates us
Darkness surrounds with
Well now you're forced to listen to the teacher and the lesson
Class is in session so you can stop guessin'
If this is a tape or a written down
tricks, when I fix the remix
I twist this disc with emphasis, since
dead presidents took residence, from dollars and cents
I got pull like Magneto
the name
Assed out in the bleachers stay shittin on the game
I suppose what you're spittin is flames, cowards
Know your crew was vaginal, I could smell
Niggas been gettin shot on my block
But we got to make a change and the thang is this
I keep my heater by my seater just in case y'all twist
Rebel, renegade, must stay paid
Not by financial aid, but a raid of hits
Causing me to take long trips
I'm the original teacher of this type of style
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