Lyrics:
by you
Know it's going down you come inside my room and
I need all my bitches with me five times two
It's a lot of niggas moving, it's like they don't
crew outside run out the backside
Pull up the beat man we ain't here to waste time
Jake got the treble and I got the bass line
We in the studio up
still takin' rappin' for a joke
A passing hope or a phase with a rope
Sometimes I choke and try to believe
When I get challenged by a million MCs
I
John McCain, you can't lift your arms up
These po-ranhas, live by a certain code of conduct
Fuck fly hoes and blow ganja
He a prophet, predict shit
you quit now, you can live an extra twenty years"
Hey, I got two words for you, okay, Jim Fix, remember Jim Fix?
The big famous jogging guy? Jogged
Dawg
We fall down one time, we get up nine though
Grab em, hit em, beat em
Loco, I'm loco, co-co
Party all day, all night
Loco, I'm loco, co-co
Lead
a damn
I deck em in the head with a two by four
Now I’m taking all your bread because you’re not hardcore
Just laying on the floor with a hole in your head
What’s happening y’all? It’s
Terrace Martin, ay, so check it out
I got three microphones, three of the
Dopest emcees, a drum machine
Two turntables
Just kick it one two three, go head, go head man, go head
He was a crook -- at the age of nine
Do whatever it took -- he'll rob you blind
Snatchin
Yeah the locals know where the local crowd lives
On Tuesdays from seven to nine
Yeah, they talk all the time how just overnight
The high-school's
I got a nine in chrome
I used to be out of luck, now when I get a boner
It often means vagina miner get to the moaner
I mean really cause it's
alone, I got a nine in chrome
I used to be out of luck, now when I get a boner
it often means vagina miner get to the moaner
I mean really cause it's
when I'm sippin' that Act
In the alley with two or three packs
Riding 'round, three or four straps
Baby come and fuck me perhaps
If you can't take it,
a dick
Yeah, I know he know a bitch
Got my homie, and we all out to get laid
Seen this bitch on stage
Live, right, get it goin', don't stop
Panties drop,
then I'm snatchin' her purse
Port city baddie, i just wanna fuck
City too crazy, so I keep it tucked
Live by the gun, die by the gun
Talk on my bro's
these niggas
How I feel to be a black
Man, you say something wrong
Nobody understand
Money, power, black, opinion, pick two
They would kill ya
No matter
goin' crazy
Catch you by tonight, it's alright, it's alright
Back with my Uncle Snoop
Like it's 2 Live Crew way back with my Uncle Luke
I get MIA
it's alright
Back with my Uncle Snoop
Like it's 2 Live Crew way back with my Uncle Luke
I get MIA with your bae, chuck up the deuce
Feelin' like I
I'm wanted dead or alive but I'm still standin'
Just tell Shannon, got the van with the cannon
When I hit, either the nine or the pound spits
I
well
We are some partying mothafuckas"
Tired of these rappers
Tired of these jackers
I'm tired of these dances
By these fucking backpackers
And I'm sick
time it is mate
Tell 'em what, tell 'em what, tell 'em what
What, what
Original spitter
This one's for the oldscool listener
0-7-9-5-6-2-2-1
they never died
They live inside as I walk around the sun one more time
And figure out a way to leave a little more space in between my rhymes
We have
Probably cause I live by the art of for-keeps
I get indicted after my product's released
We a different form, a different centrifugal force
Every line is
it up]
All live niggas tear the club up [give it up]
Give it up, y'all niggas don't want it, and if so put your doe on it
I come from 7 mile and conant
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