Lyrics:
Just get off my block
Lord Have Mercy, Busta Rhymes. Flipmode Trilogy
A yo, we ain't familiar at all, nigga
Don't like it? Go grab your gat
Just get off my block
Lord Have Mercy, Busta Rhymes. Flipmode Trilogy
A yo, we ain't familiar at all, nigga
Don't like it? Go grab your gat
By the bus stop
Most of the room didn't make it, the kid was like
In my different bag oh God I want my baby back
What about the girl in the drop
your son," girl, don't trip about it
Walk up in with apple sauce and broccoli
Little Bobby, better eat your greens, boy, don't give me lip about it
of his dear father 'til
He too was called to go
How my little girl cried when we
All got the dreaded news
She said but Daddy Derrick and Mike
Will always
these boots and bloody cube steaks from keebu
[ODB] 4X
What party can you go to
And I ain't there you bitches actin like they don't care
[RZA]
for yourself
Then please do it for your kids
My nigga, won't you tell Michelle
I love your daughter?
Please don't let her grow up
Life without a father
nobody unless they're OG's
Cause that ain't the way of an OG
So I G-O collect more G's, every dollar
Never changed though, I'm just the new version
a neck bone, you don't have to say please
Eatwutchyalike, yo, smellhowyalike.
Everybody doowutchyalike
Ooh, I see guys and girls dancin', ooh, ooh
bone, you don't have to say please
Eatwutchyalike, yo, smellhowyalike.
Everybody doowutchyalike
Ooh, I see guys and girls dancin', ooh, ooh
Not very good! People don't
Really respect me!
Mark: If I were a girl, every
Time I went to the gynecologist
I'd fake an orgasm!
Tom: Bad kids! Mark:
Obie Trice
Real name, no gimmicks
Two trailer park girls go 'round the outside
'Round the outside, 'round the outside
Two trailer park girls go
kid
You stay back like adlibs, I buy, I don't ask shit, I pop shit and pop tags, bitch
This New Era be cappin', uh
Me, Sean, T off that Pusha T,
Prince: Jeff, listen, Jeff, would you listen to me? Whatever you do, don't
fall asleep.
Jeff: Man!
Prince: Jeff..listen to me. Don't go to sleep
Jeff: Look,
Los Angeles
This gon' be our last song for you today
He asked me not to go so fast
Slow your roll down, baby
He said he got him a little girl
Uncle montelly yo...
May you please read us a story please
Nah,
I don't feel much like telling a story today kid
Please, read us a story
I said
Never fake, I never act like something that I'm not
Remember me I'm that foul mouthed kid that lived around your block
You thought that I was crazy
I seen this girl, walking down the block
I said, "wait!"
"Yo baby, you wanna come to my crib?"
"Have some donuts and milk?"
"Listen to a pop tune
world, winter war weather
This is wu-block music for the black hooded champions
Step in the car and go
Round down by your lady and I
Be waiting
Look into the rhyme
Rum to the ripple
Single
But at times I come in triple
Blaow, blaow put the heater to your head
Now your dead
Wyclef don't
shit, pop that pussy like a zit
I go by the name Lil Tunechi
Your girl is a groupie
And nigga, you's a square
And I will twist you like a Rubix
trip, get pistol-whipped
By a psycho maniac sick in his head
want to be a gangster, now he's dead
His brother took over, ain't no sweat
Bought a new
So I don't cruise through nobody hood without my gun
They know the kid ain't gon' for all that bullshit
Try and stick me, I'ma let off a full clip
Look into the rhyme
Rum to the ripple
Single
But at times I come in triple
Blaow, blaow put the heater to your head
Now your dead
Wyclef don't
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