Conspiracy

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Jair

In the Biblical Book of Judges, Yair (Hebrew: יָאִיר‎ Yā’īr, "he enlightens") was a man from Gilead of the Tribe of Manasseh, east of the River Jordan, who judged Israel for 22 years, after the death of Tola, who had ruled of 23 years. His inheritance was in Gilead through the line of Machir, the son of Manasseh. Yair was the son of Segub, the son of Hezron through the daughter of Machir (1 Chronicles 2). According to Judges 10:3–5, Yair had thirty sons, who rode thirty ass colts, and controlled 30 cities in Gilead which came to be known as Havoth-Yair (Judges 10:4; cf. 23 towns in 1 Chronicles 2:22). The word chawwoth ('tent encampments') occurs only in this context (Numbers 32:41; Deuteronomy 3:14; Judges 10:4). Yair died and was buried in Camon (or Kamon)… more »

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Run out the bank wit my brudda
Sword on the top it's a shank & a cutter
I came out the gate & gutter Im cooking wit shit not just bacon & butter
Baby I'm taking you under she screaming my name & staining the cover
Stop spilling game from the huddle
Don't say my name when yu in trouble
Be nasty wit me not humble
Be royal wit me don't rumble
The conspiracy charge was bundle
The ice inside's a jungle
I done too came too far to crumble
Shit don't kill you nigga it numb you
I'll shoot it out for they jump you
Nigga you know the vibe wen they come thru
Shawty do crypto, And she a klepto
Taught her back door, Put in effect mode
Now she my backbone, I want the neck tho My lil neckbone
Wanna be breasto
Nigga get pressed on
Can't be stepped on
If he ever did it he won't step long
They tap the iPhone now it's a trac fone
60 months
I smoked it out like runtz
You see the Star taking off go sit down & look
Watch me to do magic wave my wan & put shit on these hooks
We in here laughing cause my partner know how much shit I took
I can't keep fucking wit niggas that keep fucking up
These messy bitches couldn't jump inside my dumpster truck
My tats still bleeding even tho they healed up
Soon as the money machine (bleep)
Gotta keep them M's tuck facts
Shot missed but it hit the bottom fender
Malcom x I'm standing by the window
We were young making grills outta Reynolds's
In the slums in the field wit the hittas
Ask god why in sparing all these niggas
Outside you can't hear about the middle
Help pops wit the tv and attenas
We gone talk bout bees and the slamma
I remember trynna squeeze his lil hammer
Pop Star trynna be the hood Santa
Carolina & I bees in the Atlanta
Feds watch so I cheese for the camera
Smack her ass in them tights & pajamas
In my force ones country grammar
When you to real for it how yu handle it
When you to real for it how you handle it?
60 months
I smoked it out like runtz
You see the Star taking off go sit down & look
Watch me to do magic wave my wan & put shit on these hooks
We in here laughing cause my partner know how much shit I took
I can't keep fucking wit niggas that keep fucking up
These messy bitches couldn't jump inside my dumpster truck
My tats still bleeding even tho they healed up
Soon as the money machine (bleep)
Gotta keep them M's tuck

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