Lyrics:
the silence
So tell me what's on your mind
Down an engine
Low on gas
I flew this plane all by myself
But I'd still do it if you asked
I'd still call you when I
hood
So it's best to watch how you speaking (Shh!)
EMTs out he not breathing
Roll em in
They know he not leaving (Hahaha!)
Please stop gassing up all yo
(Boom, boom, boom, boom)
Yeah, niggas still waiting for me to drop
(Uh, huh) i robbed niggas for they base
And sold easy rock
Fur coats and magnums
Come
A heavyweight bags coming in by the several
Not making no move then you gotta do better
These diamond stay hitting I feel like Mayweather
Rock and roll with that
for props, tell your pops call the cops
See now I'm on the run, but still havin' fun
Livin' by the MAC, my gear is all black
I keep killin', because
for props, tell your pops call the cops
See now I'm on the run, but still havin' fun
Livin' by the MAC, my gear is all black
I keep killin', because
I'm from the old hood, somethin' like yo' hood
Where niggas don't know good, or know Suge, but the blow good
So we rock it like Tracy McGrady
Send it
homie you must be touching it wrong if you don't feel me (you don't feel me)
(Still breaking boys off, hmm) Candy painted with the gloss
You can hate
a bunch of hits
Chinese food makes me sick
And I think it's fly
When girls stop by
For the summer
For the summer
I like girls that
Wear Abercrombie
keep it on deck
'Cause you never know when Xzibit gonna roll through the set
Don't be scared, just be prepared and quiet as kept
At a night club,
While the khakis and chronic, got the bitches still breakin' they neck
Move the crowd without breakin' a sweat
Trendsetter, with a Beretta, so keep it
[2Pac/Makaveli Speaking]
Yo 'Law!
Is it cool if a nigga just get fucked up for this one?
(Sample from "Survival of the Fittest" by Mobb Deep)
I'm
They told me to stop making black people music
But every good genre invented by black people
Now we the ones that use it
Black artists invented
that rolls by
That I don't get high, sit back and wan' cry
I used to roll hard with tons of bitches
Now, it's just me and my niggas, what?
It ain't
can try
Dire Straits, Billy Joel
And king of the rock Mr Pink Floyd
Doesn't lift my spirits anymore
So I listen Mr Shaggy just to be bored
What call you
of hit's
Chinese food makes me sick
And I think it's fly when girls stop by
For the summer for the summer
I like girls that wear Abercrombie & Fitch
I'd take
Trunk Muzik, trunk Muzik
Straight from the back of the game I rock it
Yelawolf's got that crack boy
In the woods with the S-K I'm cockin'
You don't
saying something slurred, "Yada yada
Fuck my enemies" i think I lost my phone
Who the fuck is texting me?
It's only my poor mother
She just wonders where
Still chasing those waterfalls (so far)
And I'm the sucker tryna love it all (so far)
Uh-huh (so)
Uh-huh (far to go)
And I just been thinkin like
part,
We were concerned with ideas, not rock and roll,
But we can't avoid that arena,
It's become a part of us even if we don't understand it.
*
[Intro]
In the year 2000...
{M-O-P} still bangin
{Firing Squad!}
{The last generation...}
Hey, hey, hey, hey
All right let me brake it down
shown for years that we are def
But here's some more for ya'll
To just come get it
Rip the wheels J ("hit it")
Beat changes to Rob Base & DJ
EZ Rock's
shit on y`all
Or should I say yes, cause I`m still on the bus
So y`all is really me it`s just, y`all is already you
I hereby do declare, all of us is
by the staircase, perfect place
When they evacuate, they meet they fate
Ron pass the gasoline
The nigga pass me kerosene
Fuck it, it's flammable
My
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