Lyrics:
one was making noise ain't it a breech of
Trust look in the gutter, unh, never judge yo book by its cover
Word to the muthafucka I, I didn't studder
that take none, nobody safe
From the Friday The 13th, ghetto Jason
Itchy trigger finger achin', snatch yo' ass
Out that S-class for fakin', forty-fo'
There's a jersey on the wall
In a high-school gym in my hometown
In the corner, by the scoreboard
Where the bleacher seats fold down
Twenty-seven
a five by seven
Will I finally get to go to ghetto heaven
Got my bitches on the outside writin' me letters
And they tell me they love me and the shit
in the port of riches last seen giving stitches,
grab the can by ? crucifix, his team actin superstitious,
one eyein, one fakin, reachin for his iron
remember who they are
[Verse 2 - K-Rino]
Listen, in high school with the females, I was rarely selected
I got rejected by the ones the damn nerds rejected
and men and people
For some it's good and some, stupid evil
For Kings and Queens and El Presidente
Or passer-by and spy or could wind up in the cemetery
the signs cause I was blind gettin' played by the fakin'
Got to cut your grass, cause they gon' slime when they see time to snake ya
I've been in the Stu for
you are
You lip-sync these jams 'cause you're
Far from a superstar
And if you're lonely, 'ho, I ain't
The one who gives a damn, 'ho
I like it solo, no
on
Satisfied with nothing, you don't know the half of it
Young Money, Cash Money
Uh, paper chasin', tell that paper, "Look, I'm right behind ya"
Bitch, real
They'll sue you if you burn that CDR
It doesn't matter if you're a grandma or a seven year old girl
They'll treat you like the evil, hard bitten criminal
not supposed to ball
You really are a riot
It's got nothin' to do with heaven or hell
What I do in bed, I'm not gonna tell
What I'm talking about
and cross between
What's your's and mine's, the gold, the green
The roads that show just what it mean
That grabbed Shakur and by the wing
And fly before
As the ocean lands at our feet (ooh)
I'm in your arms
And all of your charms are for me
(Not for me)
Check it
[T-Boz]
I need a crunk tight nigga
Makes
in-depth
All thoughts I come across, my mind's the source
Made by the are, of course
Seven holes in my face as I'm lookin out my window
Speak
with sorrow (yea)
All the streets are filled with pain
Around my wayyyyy (Harlem)
(Hope my niggas'll ride
It's do or die hope my niggas survive)
By my
[DMX - dialogue]
I ain't goin back to jail
Next time, the County or the State see me
it's gonna be in a bag
UHH! This is it baby!
End
He was a canvas-back'd scatterbrain from Jazz Street
He had a '65 Chevy and and a surfer shirt full a-parakeets
It's a dead-end road by Love Canal
visit then
You could journey with me to different places by listenin'
Shittin' on 'em, ya brother got it covered
We can slug it, knuckle it however you
think they changing the game
But nothings new under the sun, need to stay in ya line
Its game 7
Losers in hell, winners in heaven
So on our way there,
the microphone master
Look, I crash ya, bash ya skull
Fucky with Mally G if you're trying to take a fall
Niggaz talk about killin and never get to it
Fuck
Set this straight
Ah baby let's set this straight
Apparently you straight, but
I can tell you fakin'
Frrrr
Stiff on me you crazy
Bitch it's fuck you
no fakin'
I feel pressure so it got me a little shaky
I gotta admit (Woah yeah)
Ya'll ain't shit (Woah yeah)
I made this a hit (Woah yeah)
Straight
capacitors
Pressing powerful punks down like trash compactors
I'm not an actor
I'm a prophet of the 7th world
Heaven's staircase is long, it's starting
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