Lyrics:
Or I'm wit someone
I love to fight and rap about it till the victims come
I'm filled with knowledge
Questions poppin
Did he peak in college
about to be insane
I got enough for both I'ma do my thang
One scream “Mac” and one scream “Fame”
Im a big dog like a Great Dane
Yo it's my pleasure but
you, oh by the way my name is E, baby"
She said, "I already know my cousin done spilled her guts"
Told she did some stuff in yo 1970 cut
I replied, "Is
that, I'm just poppin' shit
That, that's it, feel upset, bustin' by the kid
Yeah yeah
Fuck niggas I can't fuck wit em
Fuck niggas I can't fuck wit
stay away if u a bustar ass nigga
Find a nigga thats a reala playa thats a not
Call us 38 hundered mutha fucka im hot
Imitate u like a rash get off in yo
[tash]
Smoke this blunt
Yo, everybody grab a seat, welcome to smoke fest '99
I'm glad you all could make it
As you can see admission was free this
a guarantee
You gon be dead and gone fuckin' with DON CHiLLEONE
In a city where the good die young
Savages that occupy their waist with a gun, smoke weed by
like I'm already dead
I turn the music up
Flirt with the bitches in back
("Yo wassup?") yeah they pretty
Feelin giddy off of purple kush sack
Forty
got 'em like Chris
Rock when he played Pookie
The strip poppin', I ride for cash
N' you softer then a toddler ass
You could ask any cat that was
got 'em like Chris
Rock when he played Pookie
The strip poppin', I ride for cash
N' you softer then a toddler ass
You could ask any cat that was
that, I'm just poppin' shit
That, that's it, feel upset, bustin' by the kid
Yeah yeah
Fuck niggas I can't fuck wit em
Fuck niggas I can't fuck wit
Fuck
You got your shit written or what?
Yo
Ayo I'm conflicted
Fuck all that conscious shit, we hitting licks
Come up off your shit, we poppin' you know
Unless you past the presence of pastors blessings
I send you back to Jamaica
Fuck that, I send you back to yo' maker
Fuck that bitch, and smear blood
Yeah baby boy
In the place (for you and yours) to be
Da uh da uh, we got the uh ya'll
We bout to rock ya'll, we got the uh baby
Yo yo yo check it
of style like mullets
Spill it from the fullest
Like a palace I rule it
I stay rocking these bands
See me from the stands
You tryna pay yo two cents
But no
What you know about taste?
What you know about me? Not a got damn thang
You just judge by what you heard but that shit be lame
Nigga fuck fame,
y'all gon' fuck around and make us all go crazy
Say...
[Verse 1]
Yo
I roll wit niggas that blow 'dro and blow holes in yo torso
Deveras, mama, te digo la
VERSE 1
You watch that ass flow
She watch yo cash flow
Man, that b-tch so bad
You don't even know
Like them Amsterdam pros in the window
She be
niggas run back in a hurry, yo
Bumper ting bruck off and give me some honey
Can't grip broad EastEnder chicks, the twins like Ronny and Roxie
Run from
yo heart ?
Then i sit back and think how i got better just by playin it smart
Everyone in the gang gotta part
I didn’t want too but it was time
overspeed by like 20, my engine sound like a plane
I'm in a race for the money, you haters not in my lane
I need a knot in my pocket so big it's hard
four or five bandanas on
Tony Montana in they songs, living like John Gotti
But you check they background, they never shot nobody
They claim they from
wanna run my laps
Niggas wanna come bacc round
But I remember when you turned yo back
All up on the gram trynna see a nigga live
Niggas know my number
Hemmed up like Irv Gotti
Conversation they got it
Caus of a dumb nigga chirpin wanna talk about it
Hey y’all dog don’t do it
Ask Jamal
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