Lyrics:
Oh oh oh oh oh (Yeah)
Oh oh oh oh oh (Yeah)
I done had 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 shots
Now I'm in my box (Ya) (Box)
Yeah Yeah Yeah Now I'm in
for this
I swear I get it off the love
Louisiana nigga you can tell
By my mothafuckin' grammar
I swear I got 3 hoes with
Me just like I'm Santa
These
intentions, redemption
Rollin live Rovers with new suspension, over niggas
When I quest for nine digit figures
Bitch, we poppin Cham', Cristal, caddy corner
[Liffy Stokes]
It's like I got the 4-4 cocked
On the block in it two door dropped
And my spot is keepin but hot
The pussy-ass cop throw some
And smoke a blunt, and dial 9-1-7
1-6-0-4-9-3-11
And you could get long dick Hip Hop affection
I damage any MC who step in my direction
I'm Staten
anytime that I lace mine,
Light up the stage for the homies we make shine
Sick the dogs on you, get more by the K-9!
Homies on the yard never walk in
to stay
My crew I'm believing so fuck it anyway
I got my mob from the Rule, that live by the cruel
And my crew from Courtland Ave. always say they'll set
back on track
Get the skates off the rack
Cause the best roller king is
The new ladies mack
The '91 Sheep will supply the two
The Plug One will be fine
meet your fate
I'm with Carlito's Way, rollin with the real
Protected to infinity in a security shield
Chorus: (2x)
I want it all
Surrounded by techs
If Pirus and Crips all got along
They'd probably gun me down by the end of this song
Seem like the whole city go against me
Every time I'm in
without trusting
Yea too much hate when ya crew hot, too much love get you 2Pac'd
Too much bread over here get you stalked by the feds
The IRS and a few
[Chorus]
If there is a final hour
Let's hope for a higher power
1 by 1 and 2 by 2
I have ammo what about you [x2]
[Verse 1]
Grandma told me the good
that's hype
But my stripes, marks me by champ
Check out the bass coming from the power amp
I'm the controller and like the Ayatollah
I used to live in
fifty seven bow wow
Something that you never heard's right here,
Nina hella clear, never no fear
Love for the flow in I, am I gonna die by the polizei
lay back and let my mind start to trip
By me D-Loc, call me stoner of the crew
If your fuckin' with my stash then I'm fuckin' with you
Saint Dog's got
I checked in with my x-wing
I flew it in from Tattoine
I'm trying to get to Dagobah
But I just let the day go by
I don't really do much
I just sit
up/Two Nines by my side/When I'm pulling up/Every body on the west side throw it up/ever body on the east side throw it up/throw it up throw it up I
’m a boss, B
Toss me in the clink, I’m not singing
I ain’t Jon B
One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight - wait
Did I take it too far?
Ain’t that just
your rhymes on
That style of rhyme won't let you live long
Cause a strong song to you is what I sent
Cause I'm a product, of the environment
Chorus:
One - thug in the club, two - models to go
Three - bottles of Arma', four jars of dro
Five shots to draw, my six hits took off
Seven you make Heaven,
like that I'm shy
No one by my side, everyone is blind
Apathetic lives don't reach out to neighbour
I apologize, I shouldn't have been born
Why am I
Smackin' suckas silly, a remix
Take two thousand, and seven, or is that eight
(Hanna Barbara)
[Chorus]
Well it's one two three of us, never
money but
You stuck on these fake bitches
I stay blunted and never frontеd and
I doubt if I do cause if I did then I'd get
Bеat up by fucking crew
A real
money but
You stuck on these fake bitches
I stay blunted and never frontеd and
I doubt if I do cause if I did then I'd get
Bеat up by fucking crew
A real
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