Lyrics:
(By)
(Walk on by)
(Walk on by)
(Walk on by)
(Walk on by)
Yeah, bitch, I said what I said
I'd rather be famous instead
I let all that get
(By)
(Walk on by)
(Walk on by)
(Walk on by)
(Walk on by)
Yeah, bitch, I said what I said
I'd rather be famous instead
I let all that get
When I first stepped on the scene, niggas was petrified
Jet back to the lab like they were being chased by homicide
My rap flow does you like
the penalty box, cop a plea
Young G we was born to die, don't cry for me
Just keep the heat closely and ride for me
Cause we family for better or worse, you
shots run right through ya
I never knew ya
'Cause I'm not a trick
You can suck the biggity-dick, I'm not the piggity-pig
I get away quickity-quick
Cocked! If you don't want a burn from GLOCK
Then beware, I buck shots, we move up, the buck stops
Here, no more dough will be made
Unless it's being made by
Niggas hating on us cause we keep money and do it differently
Why Niggas wanna start shit
Flip shit like park it
One shot watch me save a lot
When I hit
the penalty box, cop a plea
Young G we was born to die, don't cry for me
Just keep the heat closely and ride for me
Cause we family for better or worse, you
justice
Against racial bias or corruption
Unarmed get shot, self defense scam
One cop protected by his Klan with a gun and a badge
Power goin' to his head
into that, uh
You n****s Tierra Wack
Don't need no features, Im good by my lonely
Think Im the One threw it after the Only
I make a few mill and Im
opened up the door, headed up the stairs
Thought he heard a noise, but no one else was there
First sight he saw, struck him by surprise
Two shots was
Shot in the face
Shot in the waist, back, arms, legs, shot
Any place
Their cars, homes, their own beds cops got
To face
The penalty and simply be locked
that you do
Because stupid is how everybody sounded
Nigga you think you know me, but only if you knew me
Homie, you would leave me by my lonely
I'm
Should I ill or do right? Make peace or go raw?
I can't explain the true penalties of fame and the wealth
Tell me who can I trust? I can't trust myself
Make peace or go raw?
I can't explain the true penalties of fame and the wealth
Tell me who can I trust? I can't trust myself
Got the devil got me
opened up the door, headed up the stairs
Thought he heard a noise, but no one else was there
First sight he saw, struck him by surprise
Two shots was
to
The flies bombs like Al-Ca-ter
Ride on my enemies, homicide
Text like a referee
Give you free shot for any penalty
Drop metaphors
Nouns and verbs plenty
escape you betta haul ass
Cause when I catch ya physically and mentally
I bring yo ass on the block that's the penalty
Put 'em in the hot seat grab
friction when I flex up the jaw to hit the joint
That can actually give a blood mob like Gotti
Like the body cool keep the strap up by the naughties
With Scorpions I drift without a coat again, desert storm getting warm but without trim
Warning penalty box. Warning penalty shots, through
death is always the penalty!!!!
Word! Yo R.I.P. my brother Rah, Bumpy, Junior, Herb
Know what I'm saying, just, Jeffrey, my man Stevo
They all were shot
'96 I lost my dun, '97 it got worse
Fuck it, somebody out the team gotta get murked
And sat down, you play the background when shots sound off
the users
the rock the shootas the shots the helckle of cops
the lugers the glocks the cougers
should be in my ox making some lock wit my uma
but instead im
remember)
It leaves much room for error
And the rest left to destiny
The West Memphis 3 lost paradise
It's death penalty vs suicidal tendencies
All I wanted
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