Lyrics:
to sun-down - I'm on the grind
In two weeks I was workin' a 16-25
Tryin' to get it - only thing in my vision is ballin'
Jumpin' out a 500-S cla** on brodders
get a chance I'ma bust ya
No matter where, you could be in Russia I'ma touch ya
(Like that) Vocal assassin, motivated by cash
Shoot for the loot,
Temple curls was done by Billie Jeans
Black Misses America, your name is Erica, right, true
Lazy eyeball, small feet, six shoe
Caramel complexion,
where, you could be in Russia I'ma touch ya
Vocal assassin, motivated by cash
Shoot for the loot, brownies and black mags
Don't stop, keep goin' don't
rationality's place
Hitler's in the house and I'm takin him out
He shouts but the barrel's in his mouth
Before I shoot, he wants to know if I'm white or black
Watch out for them bitches that's wicked, they play wrong
Keep your game strong, maintain yourself and live
Star bless the kids, soon sometin gotta give
[Ghostface Killah]
God's woman, what's going on?
I know things seem messed up sometime
You stressed out and you can't handle the situation
confuse you
The fact is Meth, I'm harder than bottles made by Yoo-Hoo
Wu-Tang, welcome to the House of Flying Daggers
Where the truth aim, flying out
at menus in Olde English verse
"Ode to a burger" by Keats at his worst
The hissing of omelettes the breaking of legs
Don't shoot till you see the whites
to keep it, but they... when the monster came out of the cave, just over on the left hand side of the screen you
Ee about this much two-by-four attached
Clear her bank out
Shoot her lips
She suck dick kardashian
Kylie Jenner think she black
Goth aesthetic
Dress all black
Ed hardy that's on the hat
Y2k my
(look)
I pull up and jump out the black Mazi
So high lately you could light a fuckin' match Bobby
Before the rap hobby I was selling crack probably
what I'm here for
But a young black man I'm ready
Dice to be rolled, Trynna figure out how the day gon go
Got my angels with me but the devil throwin
nigga, you got yo ass kicked
I was a curious child
I used to hang out by the ballroom and study the gangsta style
The way they talk, the way they walk,
and we love that Cris'
And we love them houses and we love that ice
And when we rollin' through your hood we love to shoot
That dice
[Chorus: x2]
One two, one one two
[Chorus]
I was stabbed by Satan, on the day that I was born
I was promised lovin', but instead I was torn
La la la, la la
snakes
Bitch, life is a gamble
Pay up what you owe boy
No drive-bys like they did Ricky
I'm hoppin' out like Doe Boy
(Do-do-do-do-do)
Hustle like
Check that soul in
Tape is rollin'
Black don't crack
Where the party at?
Stax, jumpback
Wax them tracks
Barkays cut it live
Like 45s
Strong
stressing doing more drugs
Not to mention if you test them they be four guns
I need funds with some versatile out of order
Now I'm posted up by the Eddie
more drugs
Not to mention if you test them they be four guns
I need funds with some versatile out of order
Now I'm posted up by the Eddie Bauer
Sammy B is on the cut
Sammy B is on the cut
Sammy B is on the cut
Sammy B
Ha hah, one two (one two, one two)
How we gonna do this?
What we have here
Temple cross was done by Billie Jean's
Black Misses America, your name is Erica, right, true
Lazy eyeball, small feet, six shoe
Caramel complexion,
good
Shit, I done talk my way out of the hood
Now if you followed my footsteps and walked through my shoes
You wouldn't go against me cause you know you
slipped
The Mac is cuttin records and punks are gettin ripped
Gangster I am, bust the lyrics like a drive-by
You wanna sleep? Well, it's lights out
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