Lyrics:
in crime by the name of Chuck
We stormed the city, shooting shit up like Frank Nitti
We robbed kids and split the dough 50/50
One day we stuck
part with your gun and stay this cold
Yo, we in the streets where it's nothin' but love
I'm them leather shits, you the Michael Jackson glove
I'm in
from sleep
Self Medicate to try and match the feeling Anything to feel as beautiful
Means justified by the reason Love more. Lesser I'm loved
Now once upon a time, way back in the day
There was an MC-killer by the name of E-S-H-A-M
And he was known to murder them all
Gun-clapper leave
only natural
And don't get the wrong idea, don't think I hate bitches
I love women, that's why my masturbating's religious
I'm just stating facts that
I love the way you rock my boat like Aaliyah
I can't wait to see ya, pull up in ya two seater
Drop-top, showin' off ya smile wit a knock-knock
[Neb Love-]
I used to be that way, but now I'm like this
You betta miss me with that shit or catch a mighty blow to lip
Cheeks
Beware I'm here,
kill your all ass Slob, you better get my shit back
I bust your ass my muthafuckin' ?? nigga"
[AWOL]
By now you should know that this is the be -K,
my own Tea
My my my, It's a beautiful world
I like driving in my car
Roll the top down,
Sometimes I travel quite far
Drive to the ocean
Stare up
on my heart
Boy got mo' ice, than a W march
Bout to knock my trunk off, with this shit down South
Knocking pictures off your wall, when I pass by your
had my brain on Josie the whole time we stroked
Days go by and E is like, she wants to chill
[Eon]
Yo you got that leak?
[Cage]
No doubt. Let's lace
on
I'll roll this blunt for you
[L-Burna]
Nigga, this my life
And I'm livin' the high life
And I love to smoke
And it really don't be right
If my weed
on the dash roll a dolla do a line
pump RBL's maybe 1 2 3
or the funky shit by the I.M.P
now im high like a motherfucking jet
fuck a 9 to 5 im a juke on the set
up roll it up
[Johnny Richter:]
Dats right? we on top of our game
I spent alot of time fuckin now I finally came
10 years in da makin oh wat a suprise
the shell-top Adidas
The Black Jesus, Lebanon, remain calm
Rocking state greens, sippin on Dom
Arabic link, Cartier on the arm
Nigga fresh off work release,
of this bullshit
Player hate, kick you in yo hole prostate
And at yo weight
Proceed to get the middle finger
Cause I don't love you nigga and that's
satisfied but the kids don’t understand
You kiss her
Don’t even love you
It’s a blur
She’s getting on top of you
Sometimes you see stuff nobody planned
the girls'll pass through
That Suave Dawg game, and it's more than a few
The G-shorts and the tank tops'll do
With they hands on they boo - you know how we do
My bad was not to let you in
When you stood by me better then a best friend
And I thank you for givin me a hand
Now I'm you're biggest fan
sponsor of this Thunderbird occasion
And have an iller rhyme, at least by Miller Time
Collect the skrilla and geese with a killer dime
Met her out in Killa
lickin'
No ass gettin' dick, first roles
Niggas is my hoes, top my doe
Wanna lace me with some head after my show
Bringin' dat i'm the nasty bitch that I am
at? Top fight, uh, where my dogs at?
Hold me down baby, hold me down baby, hold me down baby
Boomer, one love, nigga, urr , Murda, motherfucker
and look for Kris
Anything by KRS-One
Will lead you to peace, to love, to unity and havin' fun
y'all know but some of y'all don't
And some of y'all
Knocking pictures off your wall, when I pass by your house
Know your spouse is your trojan, if you love her than get her
Cause she stuck on a G, like a god
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