Lyrics:
to the guys I had to hide
Sorry to the girls I had to lie to
Who ain't need to know if I was by the lake switchin' tides, too
Anyway, I don't wanna talk
couldn't get work on Labor Day
It ain't that black and white, it has an area the shade of gray
I'm Westside anyway, even if I left today and stayed away
I hold the future in my fingertips
My destination races across her lips
It's no surprise, it's just what it predicts
My fate is sealed shut by
Day turns to night as I rise from my grave
Black was the hole were I laid
Stalking the city to seek out your blood
I love when it showers from my
recorded was me and 50
"Hate It or Love It", I had more Cincinnati hats than Ken Griffey
Whole hood had them Black Wall tats
Me, Fase, G-Rod, where Buddha
And they look like you approachin' me like how you, homie?
The F.B.I. see only one problem, they try to slump me
After the young black male 'cause he makes
eyelids
Of icy ink relive
In the truth yelled by your lips
Of scarlet glass
I miss
The flavour of your eyelids
Of icy ink they relive
In the truth yelled by
khakis I’m locced out
Got naked hoes in a dope house
Put them hoes on a DVD
Show them hoes what this 'pimp bout
I’m pill poppin’ feds is watchin’
I hopped
times three
Gotta change my sheets cause your girl got too excited by the sight of me
Now she wanna make a DVD
Wait, no cap I ain't got time for that
Go 'head, go 'head, go 'head Game
First things first (Aftermath) The Chronic is back
This is indo, produced by Timbo
Game over; nah the N.W.A. chain
E-class
I think we got a problem
Yeah
Big money in this bitch if you didn't knew
Big business minus the business suit
Even I look in
E-class
I think we got a problem
Yeah
Big money in this bitch if you didn't knew
Big business minus the business suit
Even I look in
and rave
I'm raw plus I got more plants to blaze
Fiends came back with thieves
With files Long as Stant isle
And back to Queens
We strap black Mac's with
the black man is
Stay in tune to the masters and unplug from the bandits
The tongue of torture, depravity, and brutal incision
The lip of sorrow, the hate
in all black time to go creep
Gotta memorize all dis shit
Know imma shine thru all dis shit
I got in my bag stay focused on music, not wasting no time
I'll drive it to her place
The only thing she's ever asking me about
I doubt its not her taste
I wouldn't want it any other way out
The only problem
must be a dyke
Witcho' lips swoll, and give a nig' some ackrite
Blunt in my left hand, drink in my right
Strap by my waistline, cause niggas don't
Yeah, cuz! Oi Movement DVD cuz
Big up Scorcher, big up Wretch 32
Big up Ghetto big up the rest of the members
Big up Risky! Big up Gift, Frisco,
Going out for a late night
Sky's black and it feels just right
Not scared that we could die
Diamonds on our fist if we wanna fight
Putting on our
like daughter
Everything unplagued by her madame mother
The present mocks us, good Black people
With keen memories set fire to the bastards
Who ask us in
The leaves have this curl to them
Racing past, golden hues like wisps of a horse tail not yet fenced in.
No more stiffening of this black substance.
as I can)
I ain't never trust no bitch, I ain't never trust no man, yeah, yeah (huh?)
Pull up in a brand new Porsche, followed by a matte black van,
thoughts making me sad
I got no problems with you babe
But I got problems with myself
I tried to solve them by myself
Not even talking to your face
I felt
a world that's gone insane
With the problems that I know we can stop
From the ruler of the world and the man on top
But the years went by, and time was
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