Lyrics:
giraffe necks
Poverty'll make your ass bet
My touch niggas in jail make them wanna finish they last set (come on)
They say you live by the gun, you die
for the crew that's deceased
If I get revenge, then they rest in peace
Somebody's got to suffer, I just might spare one
And give a brother a fair
say
What what
Let flavor blow it up
And if your ready to rock this party tonight
Somebody say what what
Now when I do my flavor dance
All
feel like I'm cut in two
Confused by rules
Do these two cultures clash or am I living in the past?
I ask, please, tell me fast
Won't somebody
trynna get by
Day to day struggling with shit so you get high
And staying drunk on the regular
Talking dope talk on your cellular
But in this game
disciple, I almost gave my life to what the dice do
Yeah man, throwing them bones
Hoping my ace get his case thrown
His girl ain't wait for him, she in
feel like I'm cut in two
Confused by rules
Do these two cultures clash or am I living in the past?
I ask, please, tell me fast
Won't somebody
hearin somebody else scream at me (shhh....)
I no longer hear from
Could it be the unknown
Sneaking into my zone
Off we roam
My spirituals is not alone
I'm
The world only know you by your worst mistakes
So spaz on they ass, that's the only way
Smash on the gas down Stony, ayy
Crash and come back with a swollen
very upset about some of the things you're saying in your songs
DJ:Some of the people are very upset about the things you are saying
DJ:
Somebody pull the fire alarm, girl, where you from?
'Cause you got this club on fire and outside I bet all they smell is smoke
(All they smell is
majority in the case of purely internal
affairs,--
ARTHUR: Be quiet!
DENNIS: --but by a two-thirds majority in the case of more--
ARTHUR: Be quiet! I
droppin?
the place is packed many faces
of some I know and some know me from buyin cases
cash stack shorty peepin
Is she Puerto Rican or half black
We slang kilos, eighths to them shorties, bring G loads
Of paper to the hood, we got you, cop three of those
And get your hustle right (yeah),
Somebody pull the fire alarm, girl, where you from?
'Cause you got this club on fire and outside I bet all they smell is smoke
(All they smell is
(we gonna)
Hit a nigga kill a nigga we'll come back
See a sucker stretch a sucker guard your naps
Cussing wasn't nothing 'til a black man rapped
See
drama
Wanted a baby doll, now she's somebody's mama
And life is so confusin to her
Askin herself why is this happenin to her
So now she
all about the pretty face with a tiny waist
God made us case by case
Nothing can replace your swag your demeanour
And your smile between the soft cheeks
shady!!!!
so I got eyes behind my back and I biggity black the 80
Yo we crazy as they come smokin blunts by the carton
Beg your pardon but MC's is a pain like
wet work
Built-in clientele so we ain't gotta network (let's go)
We always got work, so we ain't gotta get work
And if you ain't gettin' your work
But the queen confronted by none
It ain't my fault Dr drew fucked up yo face
90210 ain't fo' us, pick up yo face
Fix yo face fo' I catch a case
where your going too
Just a memoryeverybody dying
When I throw my clip in the AK
May you rest in peace
Your nobody till somebody kills you
Do you
who ya are
So live your life (hey, ayy, ayy, ayy)
You steady chasin' that paper, just live your life
(Oh, ayy ayy ayy)
Ain't got no time for no
"They put their club upside your head
And then turn around and accuse you of attacking them
Every case of police brutality against a negro follows
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