Lyrics:
many fake people around gotta cut ya down like a lumber
Solo I'm dolo on this mission by myself but I came here with the ammo
Just load up the chop load
he aint man enough to leave a real one in the face
And to you 4-6 and 8 bitches wit t.v. Pranks
You jeopardize my living quarters, wanna see me sank
a Waltzing Matilda with me
And their ghosts may be heard as they march by the billabong
Who'll come a waltzing Matilda with me.
She stepped off the bus with a burst suitcase and a frown
And she could smell the breweries and abattoirs on the edge of town
And the man who owes
only eighteen with big dreams
Before eighteen, I had seen things
Feelin' like a big boss with six rings
Or a bumblebee with six stings
Tired
thing I got it locked
Officially, I'm yo' big belly da-ddy
Technically, you don't need to be with nobody but me
Ha-va-na ci-gar, Ja-mai-can ni-gga
6
stands for grown man,
Fuck with me and I'm a bring the noise something like a marching band,
I got a forehead that's bald up,
If you got some boys, you
La-la-la-la-la-ah
Six, six, six
Girl, you hold me hostage
Here's your ransom and some taxi fare
You hit me with that classic as we sit, inhale some
Food for thought as a law for the brother man
P-Dog with a gift from heaven
Tempo 116.7
Keeps you locked in time with the program
When I get wild I
and happiness abound
I will be by your side, even six feet under ground
You and me baby it’ll last forever
100 years from now they’ll bury us together
I’ve
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A fire revealed called hell heat melts beyond the cells
I eats the Word Emmanuel God with us God in us
God replenish the man who fell into a stronghold
it's crypto nigga
Spin through his neighborhood, lettin' off Macs off nigga
Lil bro said "fuck a drive by, I'ma run down with ya"
He was talkin' too
[Featuring De La Soul]
INTRO
What's up world?
Goin' give you a little love right here
My man DJ Honda blessed us with a joint
need for a stylist
Extend my clip
It got a barrel with a silence
Play about mine, know my niggas get to wyling
We young
There be new blue hundreds by
Cola
Back up, back up, ayy, come closer
Vi-Vi-Vida loca (bullet)
High as a kite, never sober (shaka)
Python, hit him with a Cobra
Free up my bro,
your kicks
Matter fact you're pussy give me your bitch
Cam is clappin oh man can't go shit with Samuel Jackson
It's a time to kill what do I do my
drive-by with Rule
Poppin shots through the sun roof screamin' "Fuck You!"
[Ja Rule] [01]
Ya'll niggas want to dead.. (who?)
Then want to ride.. (who?)
glowstick picks by airplay
That's gay
Sniffs cocaine
The hat man is coming
Injects heroin
August twelfth twenty thirty six the heat death of the universe
to the end
Bravehearts blow the lye with Henn, and still rise
Took alive with live men, my man got three six-to-eighteen's
and only five in, the Belly
My n*****s play with the weight man, huh
Smoking the wood yea I face it, huh
Soon Ima be up idn Cali, huh
Young n***a smoke in the valley, huh
Young
dummy man
I beat it up like a punching bag
Stomping in it like a marching band
Cannawraps for my lunching pad
Then I send has ass to ha fucking man yea
on water
When the angels rolled the stone
When the Bible was a well-known book and God was feared by man
take me back with a song if you can
Sing me a song
I just left a show in Brooklyn
Now I'm in the kitchen with the dope cooking
Four bitches calling on my cell
Twelve know I got intent to sell
Bucking
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