Lyrics:
really blame you? (Who can really blame you?)
We're the ones who made you
Ahem, back by popular demand
Now pop a little Zantac for antacid if you can
get by (ooh, ooh)
Thousand miles of gravel, I've been walking with no shoes
No matter how far I come, I can't outrun my roots
I think you know
Why
know why you a dog
Know I'm coming for the crown (yuh)
Drop an album, kids want to party
Get them niggas out my house (out)
This is Hidden Hills, how
either with a dime or a bad duck
Double-R tee with the matchin' bandana
38-snub, blue steel with no hammer
And I see y'all niggas tryin' to glance
o p * * *
Q-r-s -t-u-v-w-x-y and z
We like Animal ABCs
and you see what happend to Z bitch it’s
Nothin to me
Put a spell on you like the ABC witches but Be!
Careful, talkin off I got an earful
Of you sayin I
the light like this
y'all don't really know Christ like this
Y'all know that no dikes exist
Homos neither their flesh been gripped
By demons now they got
____________________________________________________________
*written by Bob Geldof
*taken from the album entitled "A Tonic For The Troops"
a bottle of Hennessy and gave the rest
Of it to the audience Y’all
Know y’all drink that bottle
Too if I had a daughter at that time
Would I
Have went
in music
Over the last decade
WEST: I wasn't even nominated for Best
Album this year this year
I only got two nominations
By the Grammys: for
Best Rap
beautifully articulated
Demonstrated by the never faded strong facial feature
of the teacher, I am the teacher, you can check it
The styles they're
the worst shit
Everything and every motherfucker gets dealt with accordingly
Mark my words
See I remember on The Coming album
You know when there was only
away
But this game I play ain't no
Way to fix it it's inevitable
Bills gotta get paid, kids gotta eat
Live by the chopper laws die by the streets
Fuck
Cool & Dre
Back on the motherfucking Westside,
L.A.X niggas, yeah
Y'all know who the fuck I am
I'm free as a motherfucking bird I swear,
thugs from the R-O-C
Sigel Sigel in the house
Uh-huh, sick bastard
Get your wig pushed back by the wig push-backer
Uhh, uhh, Memph Bleek in
my baby madda
Mi done seet clear, seh you love mi
Mi waan breed u, nuh seh OMG
Inna fuckin mi hav a PHD
Yuh must get, yuh must get a BA by (why)
Dat
thugs from the R-O-C
Sigel Sigel in the house
Uh-huh, sick bastard
Get your wig pushed back by the wig push-backer
Uhh, uhh, Memph Bleek in
by my damn self
By my damn self, upped it by my damn self
I remember I was goin' hard by my damn self
My damn self, I did it by my damn self
I
from the R-O-C
Sigel Sigel in the house
Uh-huh, sick bastard
Get your wig pushed back by the wig push-backer
uh, uh, Memph Bleek in the house
1 yeah
This album is dedicated to all the teachers
That told me I'd never amount to nothin'
To all the people that lived above
The buildings that I
quite a lot. maybe that's normal when the band's not
On the scene for a while. but after that it feels really good to have,
Actually, a new album ready
there's whites, separated by the green
After five hundred years, think we play for the same team
Smokescreen, make the president a black guy
It ain't no
done told you niggas
Nine albums, stop fucking with me
I done told you niggas
The 9 on me, stop fucking with me
You niggas must got nine lives
9th
album baby, I came back around
By myself this time, back off the wall
Guns up in the air in the middle of the streets like blak blak blak, welcome
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