Lyrics:
He was Punishin' Big Dope Jungle Brothers was Krazy X Three
It was he his Son Doobie King Tee
A Fresh Prince Paul Kid Whorodin' in a Capri
Comrades
On my Rick James behavior
Life is school for the soul and I'm in life seven already
Life's simple but heavy, incomprehensible shit
Everything from sexy
Twenty-four seven nigga three six five
Twenty-four seven nigga three six five
Drown yo ass in hell, matter fact take a dive
Don't nobody want you, don't nobody
police time, please
That's all for now"
And as PC Plod is leaving
Her family sees him
They creep in the ward silently seething
Benaz can't control her
in the block holding
If you see me rolling by
Remember that you don't know me (you don't know me)
If you see me in the streets rolling
If you see me
stand before you in this booth a walking dead man
Blank stare dead pan look at my face as I gaze into space
As I wait to be scooped up in that van
the driveway (yeah)
Three and a half whole ones gone by Friday (gone)
Now we ridin' back, smokin', listen to Sade (haha)
The dope's up in Maryland, the coke
intelligence
A young man handle the game like Merill Lynch
3 a.m. breathing, leaning in gates
I mean creaming,
Selling these cakes in slabs like Lanolakes
was a very valiant insect
And that's why the technique, needs a brave man
And a strong one, who isn't afraid of birds
[Bobby Digital]
before I D.I.E
That's on me
1, 2 Ravi coming for you
3, 4 I'm kicking down your door
5, 6 how he get this sick
7, 8 man I hope they awake cuz
9, 10 come
Been stacking like frito lay, two duffel bags and a briefcase
Trying to count it by hand we be thumbing through them bands in the H
In the H, run it
Yeah
And you see them over there
Ooh
Man, three of them, three of us, right
Here we go
Man, let's go and make a move
Y'all already know I'm on it
In the corner with the goons
That bitch there got the 40
Words trap, we steppin' sporty
Balenci' runners and a man bag
How you think man brought in
feel some pain
My unc ain't no Peter Parker, but fell in love with Mary Jane
Ima make some shit shake like the dreads on top of Wayne
We going rush his
a working man
If I don't work Then we don't eat
So I'm doing what I gotta do seven days a week
If I don't work Then we don't eat
So I'm doing what I gotta do
gettin' hot
So how the fuck am I supposed to make a knot?
Police looking at niggas through a microscope
In L.A. everybody and they momma sell dope
(off flats), you got to spend money to make money (5 thousands, nigga, I say put it on)
Glo Gang, y'all know how we rocking, man (Rest in peace Big Glo)
Jurrasic 5 Together
Hey yo my quality control, captivates your party patrol
Your mind, body, and soul
For whom the bell tolls, let the rhythm
Uhh, Yea
Yo It’s Case Load CLR
DC Tha Duke7
The truth in and out the studio booth
With my nigga
Trulee Thee Emcee
Well Educated
Mostly from the shit
Big clips
And fully automatic sticks
Click bow, That's a man down when it rip
I'm too slick
With a six on my hip
Roll the dice take your life if you
The game done got cold man
And I ain't talking Gary's name
I'm a H.U.S.T.L.A
I'm on the grind, on the regular
I hustle hard whether I'm in the Yo
Or up in
on
Returned to school by lunchtime, like "Nigga what now? "
And today we in the club like, "Nigga, what now? "
Ya better look down
Cause Uh
I know you see em
side-tracked with some Bullshit
The road in narrow, filled with curves
You never know when your gonna swerve and hit the curb
Lose control and lose your Soul
out a coke can
Nigga got so much work, talkin' work
When I'm in the car
They still say I'm ridin' in the work van
Oh man, oh man, you don't really know
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