Lyrics:
she's mine
2 Live Crew, put the pussy in my palm
She put on a nigga and make a grown man cry
Feeling bullshit, I dont pay you no mind
But whats your sign?
I live just enough for the city so I get by
Money never changed how I felt, would I risk my
Life for a dollar, homie? Nah, I don't think so
Greed
a classic man
You could be mean when you look this clean
I'm a classic man
Calling on me like a young OG
I'm a classic man
Your needs get met by
at the bar love shoppin'
Gucci iceberg, coppin' two, three nice furs
One for your wife, one for your freak silver spurs
Rolls Royce too good to be true,
live, but this way, all that's dead
So act like you know, black
It's the mega don, check the stat
Ninety-four, fakin no jacks
[chorus 2x]
[profes]
Check
overnighters right by the motel
Drug money outfit, record clean
Spend it all on me and my fuckin' team
Matchin' Rollies for real, matchin' Rovers for real
Real quick brother, good to see you
Long live the Rocket, long live the Rocket
How'd y'all, how'd y'all pull it together?
How did we pull it
Daddy Fat Sax, G pretty D, are they same, boo
But I'm backed by the Dungeon Family, so you can go 'head wit' all that stabbin' me
'Cause I will jab
Tragically struck down in my prime
By the speed at which the bags are dropping
Shoulda watched the sky
You don't wanna live this life, it's really not
overnighters right by the motel
Drug money outfit, record clean
Spend it all on me and my fuckin' team
Matchin' Rollies for real, matchin' Rovers for real
I see motherfuckers staring like they wanna step
So I'm grabbing my rusty screw driver
In case I got to cut ya deeper than Vanessa Del Rio's vagina
gettin' topped off (Soul), Top Dawg
Women, weed, and weather what more can I say
To live and die in LA
Spend a week on Venice Beach
I'm 2Pac and Biggie
don't have to, but you wanna
A meal is hard to make, but you tell yourself you're gonna
Dealing 12 to 12, day into evening
I wonder how you continue to be
(until I die)
You could bring your crew, but we remain true
Motherfucker, still ballin' (I be ballin')
Niggas wonder why (they wonder why)
You could
a limousine with a chauffeur
Phone bill about two G's flat
No need to worry, my accountant handles that
And my whole crew is loungin'
Celebratin' every day,
it, peep it and absorb it
The same way he keep all the planets in they proper orbit
Norbert y'all better off goin' corporate
Nobody wanna hear that
at night
They had a curfew, niggers had to be home at 11, negros, 12
And you'd be trying to get home, doing your crew runs
And they'd always catch you out
Yo, this is be Brown [Intro: Bobby Brown] We gon lay ya back on this Benzino track, right Two times [Chorus 2x: Female] (Bobby Brown) Eye for an eye
the two
Better get low when I hit at your crew
I'm sendin' the cleaners through
I'm barely not sober, they thinkin' it's over, you niggas ain't seen my
cycles 1, 2 and 3
They can't MC, I'd rather be down with fucking Droopy D
My style is deadly, word born, act like you fucking know
Been writing rhymes
Totally offbeat and outta sync with they light
E and J bent tight, niggas slow ya roll
Ya now ya bleedin tonight for no reason
want to be max and does
and tattoos
You can look, but don't touch, we bad news
American Me, elegancy, treasury
With the hopes to be rich before they bury me
Born a Baptist,
My heart is beating from me
I am standing all alone
Please call me only if you are coming home
Waste another year flies by
Waste a night or two
the sticks
They call me Mr. Put-Down-Two-And-Pick-Up-Six
Then walk away with a clean slate, catch me out in A.C.
Calling yo' bluff with Puff eating
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