Lyrics:
Full of fried food and fatigue, uh
Full of fried food and fatigue
I I I ain't gettin' no sleep so
I guess when I'mma wake
Mama-se, mama-sa, I'mma
about to bust your bubble like a tree lord
Too much marijuana got me p-noid
I'm killing instrumentals with that All So Simple Can It Be, boy
Shout to Lil
full control I see illusions
And jump to high conclusions
Cause I'm only (Uh!)
Monthly see a therapist we keep it confidential
All the time I use
niggaz take they turn
Since the beginning of time
Wreck my brain tryna decide
If a way to make it by
Ow every minute I’m alive
Every minute I’m alive
the rafters
Fuck on bitches that got boyfriends
But they boyfriends full time cappers (you know)
Full time cappers (ha)
Bitch, I fold them like a futon
Creepin' down the back street on these
I got my glock cocked 'cause niggas want these
Now soon as I said it, seems I got sweated
By some nigga
You can tell I'm real, by lookin' in the ball of my eye.
I will get some cream from it, one day, your baby, and my baby.
Can my some dough on Teem
corna
From South Central to Arizona
You heard the state, the murder rate
The killer cali-California
Cops get caught outside the Compton court
By cold
[Sole]
Dear El-Pee,
How's your summer been?
Mine's been fine
I heard you had a real good time at camp
Oh, yeah, I talked to Len, he said everythings
(feat. Juan Gotti, Baby Bash, Carolyn, Coast, Grimm, Low-G, Lucky Luciano, Powda, Quota Key, Rasheed)
[Verse 1: Juan Gotti]
Razaville Texas
on the highways of rap
Choked up by the smoke and the charcoal
A lotta stamps and brands, we like a barcode
I'm bashin' all the media strikes to keep the media
on the highways of rap
Choked up by the smoke and the charcoal
A lotta stamps and brands, we like a barcode
I'm bashin' all the media strikes to keep the media
on the highways of rap
Choked up by the smoke and the charcoal
A lotta stamps and brands, we like a barcode
I'm bashin' all the media strikes to keep the media
yo' ass up
You know where we comin' from
Death Row! BIATCH! Ha ha hahaha!
A yo, Kurupt, you first to blast, nigga
And you know how we do it
stand up, Got your mind's back right
Jerse's mobbin' these cowards all the time
You know gunning them down, Every thing like that
Smooth stayin'
Vibing to the instrumental
Tinted Glass blowing out the indo
Drugs fucking up my mental
Vibing to the instrumental
Waited on my time, I had that tick tock
together at first, then I Tetris them
Laying the foundation brick by brick
More to come, placing the base in bit by bit
The glass is half full, drinking sip
I'm rapping now it ain't a joke
I see Girls fuck with me like Gotti
Every time they see me they like yo
I been making money way before the only thing is
gon' hit yo' ass up.
You know where we comin' from
Death Row bitch Ay yo Kurupt
You first to blast nigga and you know how we do it
of love
It produce the same action
Wicks full of flame
Made ‘em set it off in traffic
Stretch ‘em like elastic
Then you toe tag ‘em
I don't like
"Have a good day? Yo how many lighters you got in your pocket
Right now, man? That shit is wrong, you do this every time"
I annihilate your type if
till the end of time, cause it's mine
[Dirty $]
I'ma represent it I'ma make these boys know
I'ma hold it down for my dirty third coast, like a soldier
Being blocked by the shotgun and pray every day and night
Now I've gone a full day without some wackness heard
The One's speakin' absurd-
Are finally
the pack
Six Three One we getting that
It's the Neighborhood Reign yo
Ayo Worm go get that
Getting the bag
Give me time to brag
Cuz we spending it fast
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