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thing I gotta do is hit my wrist with the soda
Niggas thought it was over, but bitch I live by the slogan
I told you

Hop in another one nigga
Get
doors, shit we was straight out the back
Sitting in a deer stand chewing Red Man up by the pack
Them straight pipes on the five seven made us feel badass
Too high, can't come down
Losing my head, spinning round and round
Round and round round and round

Back to the hoes
Ridin' down 7-4th and Hoover
One more birth
Can't keep count
Yo that's 10-9-8-7 and 6 and
5-4-3-2

One more year that's one more down
And one more birthday
Can't keep count
New
for me
First the one
And then came the two and three and four
Five, six, seven, shots from a MAC-11
Platinum producer killed by haters
Tonight
, not no trip I been countin' the racks, keep me out your midst
Nigga can't hide in the house, cause 7.6 2 shoot through a brick
Subs by
that shit

We got toasters in the whip
I got fiends at the door
I be trapping like a bitch
I got workers by the store
They be packing thirty clips
"I'm comin'!"

Now in ninety one, he wanna tax me
I remember, the son of a bitch used to axe me
And hang me by a rope till my neck snapped
Now
enemies by any means (any means)

If-if-if you get twenty years in the league, you still couldn't ball with us (no)
Seven foot four, boy still ain't tall
niggas (word up)

(One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine)

Uh
(Ten)
I've been in this game for years, it made me an animal
It's rules
niggas (word up)

(One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine)

Uh
(Ten)
I've been in this game for years, it made me an animal
It's rules
a dollar
For the trouble, or get blown up, like a bubble

Let's take a sec to think back, the year of the seven-oh
When Brooklyn was the place to go
eye
Be careful my guy
Your babe is a hoe in disguise
You look so surprised
You couldn't see the bitch in her eyes
Oh love is blind,Shit I didn't
pan, fuck yo' man
He don't want it with us killas
With E-40 Skrilla, for real-a

[Doc Doom]
Bottle for the Wu years and I'ma hit the flow after
(ah…)


Verso (7)
Baby você falou que ia voltar 
Ah...
Eu não consigo parar de te amar

Chorus (3) 
Bad bitch full of lies 
Took me by surprise
Hoped me
of the competition by light years, still right here 
Gimmie the light gimmie the light 
Fina spark dis L and get my mind right 
Its your worst day
I always been in
the 'ven got racks in my pocket (bitch)
Dirty ass hoes tried to dog me last year not knowing a nigga finna be a problem
And them niggas shit them bogus ass
hood slippin', flatline time bitch,
Optimals and fried pita and shit,
Only enhances the chances of cowards gettin' they dome split,
I roll with, killas
spittin' facts 
Couldn't relax, the whole time I had weight up on my back 
Be black gon back, I got pistols on deck 
They gave 'cause seven flat, how many
deff)
Get money Ova flowin boss bitch what's up
 
Don't give me a short summa 
I got the whole damn year 
Temp tag on Maserati is a boss bitch year
 You
straight
Then put a couple glaciers on my wrist
What more for you to get the gist
You in the midst of living legends
Get riches wit my brethren
Pull up seven
year curse
The lost disciples, bound, to the midst of the
bottomless pit, trapped behind the gates of the wicked wilderness
I hear the sound
Bipolar?" At another point, in "Burgundy, "
There's a voice-over that asks
"Why you so depressed and sad all
The time like a little bitch?"
How did your own
symphonies
As soothing as a septet served by seven seraphs
So solemn
Sonorous and sincere
Her sleek sound
Slowly softens
And serenades the senses
Once

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