Lyrics:
rhymes but it's clear that you didn't (that's cap)
That ain't a freestyle boy that's a written
I can tell by the way that you spit it (you know that's cap)
cleansed who got my back till the end yeah
Used by niggas I thought was my brothers they ain't fuck with me
That's why I'm out the way cause if they play
to the front, eight cats on the blunt
The tracks gotta pump, the rats wanna thump
We strapped from the junk, got gats in the trunk
My niggas run the V.I.P.,
We ain't here to chase a million
We just passing by.
I been tryna turn the crib into the black Versailles
To keep us down is as American as apple pie
hard to comprehend i go hard here
Tryna wrap a rapper up like a Souvenir
Yea I know it
in this rapping shit I’m half past goated
Can’t compare me I’m in
don't know what the fuck's going on
They cut the shit on and I get run over by a train, and now it's a mass-casualty thing
I don't remember where I was
talk and cap they killers?
Nigga, we don't need bodies 'round here
We made another track, let 'em hate it
Which body wants to snap? I'll defame 'em,
is just so inspsiring, it pushes me…”
“Yo, hold on. Sorry to cut you. Before I…
You’ve been rapping stupidly over the past two tracks. I’m like what
I’m taken back by your insinuating acts and your lies
Where do we go
Or do we stay for a while
Fight off the enemy and cut our losses I don’t know
One
me and you can't relate
We don't like your records 'cause your record's gay
We here to set the record straight
Hol'up, hol'up, motherfuckers wanna
here is more than just skill
A lifetime decision I'm given so cut the frills
Get down and stay in the lay down position
This mouth sprays something
Rest in peace to the innocent children who were shot in the back
Running from the military, Junta hot on their tracks
For the love that why their
Can you dig it?
Praise the lord if you pick up the chase
Daytona 500 you got no case in the speed of life
Move real fast,trace my tracks you better
teach
Make you cram to understand lyrics so dope
They oughta cut me up in grams touchin' my hand
Before me and my man rushes to jam, crushing why'clan
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Words & Music by Michael Jahnz
Copyright, ©1992 MEJ Music
I'm caught in a cross-fire
from the miles
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