Lyrics:
at a crime covered city
Where there's no time for pity, we comin' from the village
Of the unprivileged, blood soaked bills through murder actions
the soul
And we gonna do it a little somethin'
With three subjects like this
Subject one is about a brother by the name of John
Who was sellin'
its the same song (so the Mobsters just flame on)
For scratch we was willin' to squirt some blood now we got up on hittin'
The 'cause
From stealin'
and forth to my city
Takin' flights
Be in Las Vegas over night
Chillin' with Lo Jack
Sippin' on cognac
Goin' to casinos
Gamblin' with the young ninos
Loosin'
inches on his lip
And his tie super skinny
Slide with your bitty
Niggas outdated get their clock fixed
Swagger jacking ass
All these niggas do is shoplift
homie, don't you just tell me you was just playin'
Oh I was just playin' with you K-Dot, c'mon
You know a nigga rock with you, bro
Shut the fuck up, you
Sinister
Verse 1
I was only nine years old when I got my first taste of blood we’d run around with pellet guns killing cats and dogs for fun
I
It's mind over matter
In a city where blood splatter (Spooky nigga)
Caskets close chapters
Sons become bastards (Fatherless)
Death affects life
And I want mine, and I will do anything to
Protect and feed my family
(yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah) come with me
Hail Mary, run with 3
What do we have
a nigga more for me bitch
but today I'm with Three 6 and I'm showin love
where these Tennessee hoe suck dick till they see blood
wearin my black
is like living in a glass house
There´s a need for violence and entertainment
Carrying the madness, children of rock n´ roll
I rock the beat
She wanna rock with me she make it pop for me uh
Look how I move my feet I got a glock on me
Put one in ya top for free uh
Ill do em
Make your blood boil
Well I should say
Now friends, let me tell you what I mean
You got one, two, three, four, five, six pockets in a table
Pockets
with me if you
Know what I’m talking about
Hall of Fame
Even though I'll walk in the church and
Burst in a ball of flames
Only Hall of Fame I'll be
bricks, niggaz is with that
yo, fedrados rock my man, yo
300 thousand dollars in a bottle, bitch mad as hollow
my techinique, roller in
see-3's with five TV's
The Outsidaz, its on the Night Life EP
Roll up the crime crime, organized crime dime
Between love and hate there's a fine line
on the block
Issa Fight for New York
Whole city looking haunted
The peep you think you cool with
Just really own shit
Stab you in the back
But before they look
get a flame and ya act like propane
No sweat, no blood, no pain, no gain (Blade)
No cards, no deal, no dice, no game, no thangs
I'm givin you bitches
gloves
Had three gazelles, admitted nothing when I sat in my cell
Hey Brooklyn hard rock, your style is mad tight!
Your style is mad tight, your
to be there
Not a complete failure
Did some shows and heard some Cheers
But want to sell out like
Biggie pac rose from the dead
Different cities we rock
man, Franchise want in
[Verse 1]
I love niggaz who talk drama till the gun is stuck in they face
Screaming for they mama,
left with three in
the fo'-fo')
[Krayzie Bone]
Don't be fuckin' with my money, nigga no,
See when Krayzie pull the pump, then I kill 'em all.
Pump slugs, when blood hit
bury me a thug
Henessy and weed be a ball with desert
These shirts and kakis is how we work
Hypnotized by change after fortune and fame
I roll 20's
on a couch with you
If it's really bricks in the house, nigga
For my city, know how I rock
Breaking news story leaked by the cops
Cuban links on me, too
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