Lyrics:
And clutch my nutsack and spit all who pick at me
A pitt and rott mix, fuck the dogs you sic on me
I'm sayin' you motherfuckers don't know us, quit playin'
And clutch my nutsack and spit all who pick at me
A pitt and rott mix, fuck the dogs you sic on me
I'm sayin' you motherfuckers don't know us, quit playin'
Don't leave your girl around me sipping that K.u.t.
Henney tastes oh so sweet, in no time she's sweet on me.
One night is all I need. Baby already
the bliss
This is for the niggas, quick to slaughter
Resumes held by the D.A.'s, the ballers
(Chorus: Ice-T)
Rock your hammers back cussers that's the way
ways
Side roads
And main streets
All diverging and going straight
But they never meet
We ain't gettin nowhere collectively til that's what we see
And we
But that's the past and many knew it couldn't last
By peaceful means or either by a rifle blast
Or whatever, better late than never
We finally
a bitch who's bad, got an itchy cat? Why don't you think you should holler at Nick?
I bury that shit in a sarcophagus
I marry a bitch if she swallow it
Can
friend Billy who live just across the way
The world belonged to us forever on from that day
Until we ran into that sneaky girl from down the street
Who
nothing
I used to play tough with the cops, had ideas
Told my girl who protest hold me a spot
And I'll go
Black folk know what talking white means
But
y'all (that y'all!)
And that's all!
Street's disciple, my raps are trifle
I shoot slugs from my brain just like a rifle
Stampede the stage, I leave
you in the murkin' mix
You gone pull in line or we gone spit that venom
I'm thinkin' 10 steps ahead I want my own denim
We were goin' in them stackin
the gangstas die young and the rats die faster
So, when my shooter spread this MAC
Live shatter 'round, 'round
Like, "Who gives a fuck if Black Lives Matter?"
Chinese
But you know where we goin
Miami Beach
Cali streets
New York City
Where we pull up
That's the scene
Yeah
This weed is exotic
Without it I'm toxic
and eat they stash they nor slack from the street stack the *** to ***
talk to the heavens for luck from God
infact boys don pass through conditions
held accountable, so instead I pass the blame,
besides I wanna live forever like the cast of fame.
serious trouble will pass me by and my life will be
want to fuck
I met you and I stuttered in passion
Though slightly blinded by that ass
It was hard to keep my dick in my pants
Every time you pass
Got me
the globe quick fast
See I can make your girl move three ways slow quick fast
I like that so keep that tempo like that
Finesse, finesse now your whole clique
Street
Who call themselves The Fugs
In April
They record by Harry Smith doing the
Punkiest songs yet to exist
Lo-fi noisy shit about poetry, sex and drugs
"MC's you suck, that's without a doubt"
"Now who's my first victim? Come get some of this"
"MC's you suck, you know how that go"
"Yo, this is a fact,
saying she want it,
I'll wear her ass out like new garments,
Then we skrrrr, my whip foreign,
Touring in yo city imma tourist,
Yo girl call me to wax that
on the street
Play it for the Whiz Kid
Just play that beat
Play that beat
Why don't you play it for me?
Switch the mix mister D.J
(Girls singing - repeats
stay by my side, pussy pop like my nina
Can't hit my ride cuz my main chicks a creamer
I had to get back to the trap, I make stack off of rap, but they
Candles lit with that wine, money still on my mind
And I gave her that really bomb sex
No matter where she goes or who she knows
She still belongs in my
partna Roscoe like bruh I'm drunk as hell
Can't you tell, goose we been spent fifty stacks so fuck it
Well I'm tryna to hit the hotel with two girls that's
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