Lyrics:
on the
Barbwire
Why I write it like that?
Cause it must be
My Essence is Rare
My BACKYARD funky
We got a JUNKYARD band
We GO GO like dat
You can't mute DC!
We don't
it's a mismatch
You see what I did to the
Other MCs on my diss track
How can I clash Devilman?
Devilman ain't on my level man
After I murk Devilman
Put
finna teach you, some lessons
Teach you how I'mma make it to the Bentley's
And throw shots like that Smith and Wesson
I be pulling in, why this niggas
run with
Don't make me up this motherfucker on some dumb shit
I ain't the one, I'm just as loony as the next dude
You fuck with me and I'ma send your
spray (hoo-ahhhh) duck leaves my trigger finger
DIGITAL
My gun'll make, many men, things you did when I get mad
and pissed cause I can make him my
stressing
Just wrote my dawg in the feds I hope he got the message
I'll be right there to make sure the system don't break you
Wishing that you can do
on the verge of going crazy and your heart's in pain
No one can hear though you're screaming so loud
You feel all alone in a faceless crowd
Isn't it strange how
mind to be stressin
And now I can't even watch the news its depressin
I see em battle through saddam's hood with smith n wessens
And droppin all kind
get it
Going through tragedy
And still gotta feed the kids
Every move drastic
Making plays with Jadakiss
I am legend icon
And I don't know
Jalen Smith
better to live
Let me get what's between your sock, cause it's, better to give
Than receive, believe what I say when I tell you
Don't make me put your
rather Hustle our way Up
How U gone Rob the Goon
This ain't no time to play
We dont do minimum wage
We rather Hustle our way Up
I move that Work by the Day
bout it
Cuz if they catch yo ass without it gun smoke gone leave it cloudy
I had to tighten up my camp can't have no lazy shit around me
I don't fucc
motherfuckin question:
"How many shots does it take
To make my heart stop
And my body start to shake, "
Even though I'm fuckin with the po'-po'
Them nigga know
make the seniors tote my ninas (uh-huh) (whoa-oh, ooh yeah)
From gym class, to English, pass off a global (woo)
The only, with a mobile, can't you see
style (what), see Jay how (uh)
We don't play fair, we play foul
Go head, stand there, we spray crowds
Live from the 7-1-8
If there ever
Chicanos slang
Niggas too small
They can’t hang
See them Chicanos o Negro
They all one in the same
I know some niggas
Call em X-men
They the connect can
of
The Old Folks
Then one strange folk band downtown
Called The Holy Modal Rounders
Began to make it more anarchistic
With weird voices and drug jokes
"Moms
it, it seems like the drama never ends
Be in the projects, like I never left out
Might be on odds goods, see a nigga stressed out
I can't take it
cross me and you dead
I'm built for it, go and stunt get killed for it
Low low, see me I keep a low pro
The blow go to income, more ho's and more dough
me with dog, I'm different
I bought it back for a livin'
Thirty three O's on a chick back like Pippen (woo)
Three she can keep for herself
Word to Skype, how I see it is how I call it dude
I open doors that they walking through
Not to brag but it's important, too
'Cause they'll forget
after school
Like how come you ain't rich like the other dudes
Bitch I don't know
Can we chill now shit
Shit
Like I'm Drako man I crank that
If I make
rowdy
And ya don't want that shit
Cause its gone be naughty, by nature
Fuck a playa hater
Ima come through
And ya know I'm down to spray ya
Let them
Can't give, to whats happening
I had to take it
Like popping a picture
Put up picture
Baby I don't know whats in this drink
Is in the mixture?
Lookin
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