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Nuttin' but fake guys
Looking through fake eyes
I think you should realise
That I don't get phased by them lies
Anyone can talk any shit like them
But I
you're trying to get your life right
Nevermore
The DVD is in our eyesight
Let it go
Or soon you'll watch it fall

Talking about the next
But shit was cool
this, see, I'm a brainiac
I'll call you tattoo, you never come off
I flip the script with a sawed-off, boss
A modern Shakespeare reincarnated
Brains are
Uh-huh, uh, ooh, damn, baby, shit
How you get all that in them jeans?
Nevermind that, you hear this? Ha, it's that Star Trak
Clipse (get down), So
Uh-huh, uh, ooh, damn, baby, shit
How you get all that in them jeans?
Nevermind that, you hear this? Ha, it's that Star Trak
Clipse (get down), So
For Meek he watched their DVDs
Religiously and emulated them

You can find videos online of
Meek's early teenage years
When he would battle rap
them bitches (let's go)
I know you with your folks, but that nigga is broke
You might as well open your legs up and let a nigga poke
I'm a show you
and they'll get a slice
The drippiest pie
Flickiest drippiest type
Zip up the hype
All of my goons the craziest guys
Bun up for free my hommie you tried
Talk
nothing, leave them
Bare skeng talk, I can't believe them
The red and white R6 I'll leave them
Ed Hardy glasses I can't see them
So why you talking like you
the next mother fucker who calls you his bitch
Script off
Lemme talk off record
Your green I can't afford
Now what's in store
All aboard the one way
Tip top the talk of the town
Aight
Aye, Aye
They put on a beat and I'm starting to vibe
You'd be surprised that I ain't in my prime
P, Soos, Doe,
lobster and shrimp, you could tell by the hat
Gators and flavors, colors like Now and Laters
Split champagne wishes to bitches, trips to Vegas

Jot down
south, the dirty south [repeat 2X]

[Redd]
Down south we wear bandannas and denim suites 
Down south you gone always spot us in them coupes

[Lil' Flip]
flip the script
Like the suicide doors on my Whip
You held me down
Down to drown
Look now
I'm ring master you're the clown
Takin the game and wearin my
can't even talk if that's not how u walk it

I feel like a dime piece
She call me lil daddy then she drop the addy
New watch let it twist like a DVD
ain't talk right 
They ain't talk right
Talkin' but it's all lies 
Written by DvD (David Finch)
my pocket
You wil', I'mma pop it i'm down for a profit
I'm ghetto as hell you can't tell?
My road dog, under the jail
Getting frustrating mail
So I'm
Then i met my defender by
The name of lawrence bender
And he said you got some
Moxy u obnoxious pretender

Read my script and loved it
Said it needs
Then I met my defender by
The name of Lawrence Bender
He said "You got some moxy
You obnoxious pretender"
Read my script and loved it
Said it needs
choppa sing
Call me young Pentium with no heatsink, yuh
They leg-locked my van up down by Kurt's angle
Worst thing, tho
That your music more generic than
Bitch I been fed
Eastside
Talk that shit good
Bitch I slang wood out the circle drive
Niggas know how it go
I gave em four years to get it right
When you
(yeah)
Got to love you, got to love you
Got to love you, got to love you

Gyal, me nuh stay like dem bwoy deh weh put you down
Me rather lift you way
I'm in the league of my own
You in the pee wee league when I was broke steal my grill
At least three G's now I talk with a smile at the VB's breathe
aint no backing down
Send a threat im feeling blessed but im not gone trip
Pouring tech how you obsessed but aint got no scripts
Playing checkers im

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