Lyrics:
realize my vision was symbolic to my hustle
Another five hundred fifty thousand toppin' off my duffle (racks)
Gettin' too heavy to lift, shit, I could
dead wrong
If you think you'll make it out with all your limbs
Grab your camera
So we can put this on film
[kuniva]
Hey
Don't get cut into hundreds over
conducted by all of my lovely ladies
I promise I ain't budgin', I promise I ain't make it 'til I'm rakin' in
A 100k a month and that ain't nothin'
Half
myself, if I don't then who will I
Wanna be just like the man in the mirror
(huh?) cause who could ask for more?
He look good, rap good, he got it going
Griselda by Fashion Rebels
Ayo, word to the tiger on my Kenzo
Extendo gats hangin' out the Benzo
(Doot doot doot doot doot doot doot)
Christian Dada
Just cogs in a great machine
Victims of a brutal doctrine
Pulverised by artillery
Disintegrated company
Three hundred days of hell
Every hour,
Yeah, yeah
Church
Man, I know I'm getting stupid hella views,
Closet got about a hundred pair of boots
Looking like the set that walked
question authority, im backed by minority
And in all truth, we be the majority
Sorry man, I just go into rants
I start talking bout noise, then the hours
of your bitch
While you dyin' (geah)
Lyin' on your back
Tryin' to get ? ? ? ?
Never seen a man cry
Until he seems dead
As I pump 2 more slugs up in that ass
still gettin' injured
NIGGA DON'T YOU KNOW BY NOW THE TANK CAN'T BE DENTED?!!
And when we reach a hundred million cartridges
We ain't finished
Bitch
basement, forgetting names and faces
Ass 'n titties on my phone save the contact by location
If I save it at all, walk in the room
Seen the oxygen escaping
cheating
Upon receipt of your son
And daughter's scores
You may find him or her to be more than
Apt above average in kind
Ofwell the following i want my
nothin'
Niggas say they gon' kill me
They ain't dropped nothin'
We spinned they block, we pop an opp
I bet we got somethin'
You bet a hundred on my gang
I
Ayy, G Herbo, this a real Eastside story right here, man
R.I.P. them niggas, haan
Used to ride the front of the bus now I'm in the back
up (c'mon, uh)
You know cats with chips, my clique got more bucks (that's right)
Oh shucks, she start gettin the picture
Three the hard way, menage
seen it all
Niggaz stretched out by the corner store
Life no more, dough seem small--I'm gettin' focused
In the crib writin' rhymes while I'm smokin'
you, you, you
Let's go, Starsky and Hutch man
Fire and Stick
Light ya blunts up, light ya blunts up
Yo, yo
[Fredro Starr]
I'm 'bout to hit
[All by I Self Divine]
[Chorus 1]
China white, crystal meth, angel dust, percaset, cocaine, morphine, PCP
Hash, opium, prozac, special K, Xanax,
enough
I climb heights, the dash, the cord
I don't share my past for more
I can't stop 'til I'm past them all
I'm bigger than trash support
I headline
twelve-hundred a month
Two bedroom, two grand and above
Mandem risking hands in cuffs
Betrayed by land we love
'Cause England's ending, death's still pending
I make the bands do the runnin man
Take a trip to Caicos shit I needa tan
Even OT chasin dividends
Ima speak it into existence
Need a 100 for a show
dong give a shit being runned over by hundred tanks
U can play with a rope, get yourself a fucking bazooka
I won't become a moveless stone if I look
[Xzibit]
Yeah, yeah!
Yeah, we keep it bouncin like this
Yeah, huh, we keep it movin like
Listen, listen, look..
The most wanted man in America, I
I ain't putting no more lames on
All by my lonely, I feel like im akon
Bih im sippin tea in yo hood like im trayvon
All bout my green like my first
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