Lyrics:
Dear friend, it's been a long, long while
I've been meaning to write you
But it was never my style
But what is these days now I'm a family man.
guerillas performin drive-bys up on ya gangstas
Strapped the Cadillacs, my lyrical assault murder weapon
I'll blow ya rips out ya mid-section
Chinese
[Sonny Cheeba]
If you Gorilla Pimp drag it on the floor
Grab her by the hair and drag her on the floor
Tilt that cock and drag it on the floor
Take them
to blame
The style I got the style you don't I'm onto you
Cause you a hoe a jealous hoe you know it too
*CHORUS*
Now you hoes don't be about shit (jealous,
and tear your back out
That shit ain't happened since The Mack was out
Uh, rollin' for Lana, dripped in Gabbana
Nineties style, you find a style
Right
you at y'all (where you at y'all)
When the feds come and get you that's that y'all (that's that y'all)
[Styles]
Fake lieuteno, on a sing, make
blankin' niggas
[Yukmouth]
I'm jack style
Surrounded by weed smoke
See me and my peoples in the club,
Thugged up, suited in steet clothes
We roll,
Eating and learning to act hungry
>From South Cat country, hustling cane
I'm like Denzel with a Benzel, he got game
Verse Three: Styles Paniro
I
someone to love me
I owe my thanks to thee
[Styles]
They never expressed, that life's a part of death
They never go there, but you can blow here
we settle the score
You can never measure, to the standard, of the most
Popular demanded, rap classics
Pop corks while the style knock your tops off
So flavorous you could taste it
So hardcore, I wrote this layin' on the floor in the basement
My style ain't no walk in the park
Got mainstream MC's
Yo they don't know how next is gonna come
Divine Style in 9-7 y'all
So get ready check it out
One time
One time ah ah ah for your mind
Yeah
more styles than Groove?
Who's the only one to make the whole nation move?
Runnin' up on sucka's sets like we pay the bills
Make 'em fret
wanna be down, but they can't
Original "Criminal Minded" flow, they just ain't
ready for the real, ready to peel off the paint
Your style is fake,
My style of rhymin is ancient like Aztecs and Mayans
Because I recognize its all about timin'
Me and my freestyle alliance practicin' African
They just ain't ready for the real
Ready to peel off the paint
Your style is fake
The teacher returns to debate
You the best? That's bull, you
And if you understood would you
Beat my ryhme if you can
Yeah you talk shit, think I care
My style in this flow is confusing cause you don't know
Pop
propelling from my lips
You claim to have style while I, huh crack a smile
You can give it up because you know you're livin foul
It took a hot minute now I'm
pon de mic general treat the general
Get pon brock inna me style
Wicked original
Menimeni brock menimeni skin
Me nah or chat
Menimeni nah send ah
And if you understood would you
Beat my ryhme if you can
Yeah you talk shit, think I care
My style in this flow is confusing cause you don't know
Pop
elaborate
Shit on ?, activist servin my addicts (why?)
Fuck up those who dance by chance a champ be fly
Smack that ass that go by and she won't ask me why
down, stuntin style, over those I polly
Then merk-o from squalie, ducati and Roberto Cavali mami
We feelin' them scoobies, you stealin' them gucci's
just ate
Riffin, she got to be to work by eight
This must mean she ain't tryin to wait
Conversate, sex on the first date I state "You know what you do
The greatest star
I am by far
But no one knows it, wait
They're gonna hear a voice
A silver flute
They'll cheer each toot (hey, that kid is terrific, hmm)
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