Lyrics:
Mandem calling me luffy finna come through while I bring out the one piece
Look at my wrist
You all be dead by half past two on my time piece
Get
this tragic end
The dead adolescent
Fallen angel descends
Said here's a chance to live
To gain a will again
When pain and life blend in
Chaos will bloom
like you.
I got a hundred beats; all nicer than your joint.
Karaoke MC's need not receive G's; that's the whole point.
Be out within' the crowd; get
Product of the slaughterhouse
This is the aftermath
I don't trust shit bitches hang you with white flags
Stab you in the back and then ask for
screaming my name
Bow your heads in prayer babe, haven't you heard I'm a saint
Or grow a fuckin' pair and get the fuck out my face
Wait a minute little
feel like they froze
Speech, totally calm, hold a dead rappers dome in my palm
Burn a flag, plus its on the Qu'ran, its on the bible
Plus America
afraid to dive
Let the money pile up until I'm buried alive
Ask who the fuck want it, I bring it to your doorbell
Have niggas in your yard like a yard
than yours
I'm just on some other shit
I'm all about the beats and the lyrics
So when you hear it you can feel it
The vibe is energized by
than yours
I'm just on some other shit
I'm all about the beats and the lyrics
So when you hear it you can feel it
The vibe is energized by
because I won't back down
So bring your weapons and your guns
Bring your daughters and your sons
I will plant my flag on your shore
And be knock, knock,
They just was watching
When they nigga had got ran down
That's the type of shit
Ah make you put your hands down
Ain't get no hand outs
Niggas seen me cry
know out of my character
I won’t expose one rhyme away from cutting close this is here dead murder she wrote
Get rich or die trying I live by the quote I
of the bluest inks your iris ever saw
(close to insanity)
One child prodigy with a vision in his core
(close to insanity)
(yeah, yo)
I'm frost bitten, slippin'
your so wrong (it's 50)
I'm innocent in my head, like a baby born dead
Destination heaven, sit and politic with passengers from 9/11 (yeah)
your so wrong (it's 50)
I'm innocent in my head, like a baby born dead
Destination heaven, sit and politic with passengers from 9/11 (yeah)
hood
I'm the epitome slimeball
Fuck up out my eyesight
Fuck is on your brain? Dog shit?
I'm not the clown type
Die fore I let a nigga play me
Like I'm
troop
Salute, collect the loot
And shoot
When I say so
Pull out and let them fade slow
Who gave the mother fucking order
Dead i Side Show
I got some
whoa!
[Lil' Fame]
Aiyyo I bring sorrow, you won't make it to tomorrow
Flames spit from the nozzle, pop one up in your (?)
(STREET TEAM) East coast up,
Rose's diary,
That's why an appetite for destruction lives inside of me.
I'm not - your - typical lyricist,
Acting gangsta and sellin' out appearences.
your mom proud
Take us all over the world we like to travel
Steer clear of dead things you never know you might unravel
Your hidden secrets young
to take
Your grandma out you got to know 'bout shit
To talk 'bout shit
Why the fuck you think I talk like this?
In any hood that you go, it's the same
autograph
Swear to God nigga! Swear to God!
I'm sure his ass won't make a confession
But they can tell by your facial
Expression it's not a lie
You can't
out bread sticks
I break every bone in your foot you try
To give me that easy dead kick
So that when you slide up like a
Dancer we'll all see your leg
and bitch I'm still countin'
You niggas got problems? Well I got bigger problems
My guns all black, make me bring the nigga out 'em
You don't want that
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