Lyrics:
blunts till my arm look like Popeye
Till the day is bye bye
Till then, three hundred G fly by, rented
So foggy windows look tinted
We just be lookin'
always be right by our side
As elements and stars align, break these lies
The cities will crumble
Fires burn throughout the land
Rebuild from ashes
This
I got meatroll
Have you ever seen ah bag full of meatrolls i was thirteen living by the G-code
I woke up to the blinder with a plate of zones had ah
you gotta fight
That's what I live by
Might get my pain tatted
Might get my pain tatted
Life is movie, she look like an actress
I done fucked
laboratory conditions
Government supervision
Or spiritual guidance
Hey guys, oh man
Side effects include
Bone marrow poisoning
A taste for stagnant sink wa
This is not an illusion, this is not a mirage
Conversation with God, spilling my soul out
I own assault weapons that fall down like Megatron
The iron
Popular demand, overstand these pirahnas
Movin on the track like a Monaco GT
I stand out similar to 3D on your TV
Easily breezin watchin the speed dial
Ladies and gentlemen welcome to the lyrical grand prix
We have our drivers racin' for a three million dollar purse
Winner takes all gentlemen
these niggas they plot
They rush up on the block with shots
From fully automatic weaponry
They had to be a least two or three cars deep
Then all
on one
Tell these bitches
I'm on one
Tell these haters
I'm on one
Coud 9's
Where I'm on
Al3x da gr8
He a trooper
Iron made
Insane
He a shooter
Writing
broken.
These be seven curses on a judge so cruel:
That one doctor will not save him,
That two healers will not heal him,
That three eyes will not see him.
Huh yeah, nigga its time to slide
I'm counting guap give a fuck bout a hoe, I'm going on missions she a waste of time
Cant fuck with these niggas
the partition of God's religion
Become united by our bars and our common visions,
The "C" of Tranquility, what will it really be?
What does the future hold?
thousand and three
This the zero three season and I'm bout to detail my agony
Tell him to leave quietly if he can't handle sanitary
These pussys bout
at the Grammys
#3, Bevel fade, preparing for your girl's panties
Hadee, Sincere, F.A.B.L.E., we family
And any nigga wanna step up gone feel these hands see ah ah
and never let these bitches know ya
And even though I'm gettin' high, a thug nigga gettin' by
Catchin' bitches spittin' lies, I'm gettin' mine
All day, I
[Bizzy Bone "Chorus in background"]
Turn my vocals up.....turn my vocals up, turn'em, turn'em up, a little more
Turn'em up a little more, turn'em up
You see I write my name in stone as I grow into my own
I'm bad to the bone and a beast I'm in my zone
No need for hallow tips or 9 that's plated by
the block read
Now my Beamer car keys wanted by the car thieves
Cock squeeeeze on these rats on my cock, pleaaase
All informal, get wet when the cop sneeze
There's a place in Hell
A well with iron colour
All with stone it's made
It's known as Malebolge
Right in the middle
Of this evil field
Is an abyss
too burdened by this gold
Though it's heavy and its cold
There's some comfort in its weight
Like some iron in my hands
It could help you understand
How
And the voters are stupid they judge the book by it's cover
Chorus: Crime scene colon these cold streets we patrol on
Trying to get a hold on kids strapped with
(Chorus)
Uhhhh!!
I want to piss on your grave!
make me feel alright!
Yaa Yaa Yaa!!
(Repeat)
While you was eatin'
T-bone
the funkiest, dopest heat on the streets
Three G ski, Slimm, Big Boi and this is C B-O-N-E
If you need some back-up, find your own
Your girl gonna give you
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