Lyrics:
a head from a f- dead cat in my mailbox
Went to Burger King, they spit on my onion rings
I think my karma is catching up with me
Maybe that's why I
the party at?"
Let up ya dresses, confess it, Tech is impressive
His message, eff, it, stretches from Zacatecas to Texas
I'm excessive with breasts-es
Yeah, 2gether
Your boy got popped in a drive-by yesterday
He'll be lucky if he makes it through the night is what the doctors say
You can take
And yet the answer is staring us in the face
This could be the chance to ensnare our clever friend
We're listening, go on
We shall play his game
hours in a day, hahaha! So there we are, fifteen days before we're supposed
to leave....fifteen days! We hadn't even written any...well, the boys had
Sunday?
An while we're at it throw in every other day to start
I know people make promises all the time
Then they turn right around and break them
niggas is trife
It's the, semi auto you can bring it on yo
I'm pullin' out strippin' niggas just like a porno flick
I'm sick the Mobb rolls thick
Cross
behavin' like they ought ta good
There lived a lil' boy who was misled
By anotha lil' boy and this is what he said
"Me and Ty, we gonna make sum cash
Intro (spoken):
People,
The world today is in a very difficult situation,
And we all know it,
Because we're the ones who created it.
Chorus:
on Revolt (Revolt)
Diddy by my side, I got shooters and they scopes
Such a paradox comin' from one pair of socks
Lesson number one is that you never call
Bobby will body anybody Like Gotti did Gambino, from Maryland to Reno
We know Tarantino a killer
But the Young Sinatra got you by the neck
Wake up now, this is the time you've waited for
Far below, where shadows fester as they grow
An army thousands strong, obsessed by right
Yeah
What? What?
Check this out, right?
Yeah
It's Lil' Jon and the motherfuckin' East Side Boyz (what?)
The Kings of Crunk (what? What?)
Back
fuckin' you up
And keep pullin' the rug from up under you
And what's ever more fucked up, is we enjoy what were doin'
So much there ain't nothin' that we
Word to Phife, we're gonna bring it to the overlord
Drinkin' Cisco chilling with the gold microphone cords
And we grip our balls every time we stuntin'
or forget the essence, from which I emerged
P is sick, so save that bullshit for the burbs
Live up to my word, if I got beef, niggaz comin in herds
We
GTA"
'Cause the boys in the hood are always hard
You come talkin' that trash, we'll pull your card
Knowin' nothin' in life, but to be legit
Don't
turn, and I am concerned
About idiots posing as kings
What are we here to rule?
I thought we were supposed to sing
And if we oughta sing, then let us
posing as kings
What are we here to rule?
I thought we were supposed to sing
And if we oughta sing, then let us begin to teach
Many of you are
me right up close, you're like (Oh Em)
And where is D12 at, they like (We over here)
And where the fuck we going, we're like (No where)
[Verse 2 -
down with us
D.J. Red Alert, he's down with us
Robocop boy, he's down with us
Makin' funky music is a must
I'm number one
People still takin'
Crucial Conflict come out and play, hey come on
Crucial Conflict, Kelly and Rockland, collabo'
Funny faces is all I see
At my place, you on top
not regular, consider me irregular
From the regular rapper ones that lumber
But I come from a slum where many bum
Sometimes I cooled out, while my
Mr. Mixx:
Ghetto Style Dee-Jays!
{Don't touch that stereo!}
{Ghetto} {Bass}
Verse 1: Fresh Kid Ice
What's up, party people, we're back again
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