Lyrics:
shit, bet I live for it
For this moment
Had to vent so I hit up the big homie
Niggas don't even buy albums
But niggas still do anything for a deal,
I knew you was jealous from the day that I met you
I upset you, 'cause I get respect, I bet you
I'm even liked better by your niece and nephew
We takin' this one to the whole
'nother level gutter style thug style
You feel me
Things that we can only do as a real G
We ain't dead yet
Hit me, I
shout-out to my man
MC Homicide and DJ Fatal!
Twin one and two my man Milk!
My man Fred Dawg, the O.G.B. crew!
Y'all know how we flow
And I'm a drop it like
(okay)
To his album we ride we so mob (okay, yeah)
I throw lives and lowest to live
For my loaf of bread the people's player
I did what the culture
Yeah, this album is dedicated
To all the teachers that told me I'd never amount to nothin'
To all the people that lived above the buildings that I
I'm the truth in the booth and they can't keep up
hardly cause I always hit em with a new flow
And the two door with the coup low with the Hublot
off
the wait
So here I go, I'm about to throw a dope flow
And let them know 2Pac will hit
You with a death blow
But you say no because you
Wanna battle blow for
my baggage
Hundred feet above average (average)
By twenty-one I was a savage (uh)
By twenty-two I had a foreign, by twenty-three I had crashed it
Yeah, this album is dedicated
To all the teachers that told me I'd never amount to nothin'
To all the people that lived above the buildings that I
left us
Well he's gone and life goes on, you know
We had a crew, but one by one we go
Memories of his face that was full of joy
Rock-a, Rock-a bye,
production's tight
Sometimes I might catch a severe case of writer's block
But by the end of the day you'll be on my jock
My name's Malik my hobby's putting
Rebel, renegade, must stay paid
Not by financial aid, but the break of hits
Causing me to take long trips
I'm the original, teacher of this type
putting out hit's
Tryin' to shoot me
But I'm out in LA on the low livin' Gucci
And lavish
They tryin' to take they money back
It's two to they cabbage
him down
Gots to be the first one to hit ya when we meet
Comin' quickly up the streets is the punk ass police
The first one jumped out and said
(now) is finite
So that's why I write about my present now, so clean
Grounded like a mezzanine
Record raps like I'm a machine
Word to Major, homie,
to be it
Well are you prepared
I hope you are prepared nigga
'Cause you know this is album number two
Yes more bitches than before
There'll be more
own two
No crew just see what this Mac-11 gon do
Plenty bodies gon be dropping soon
As I come through
Hop out let it rip head slugs go threw
KRS One is just the guy to lead a crew
Right up to your face and dis you
Everyone saw me on the last album cover
Holding a pistol
Something far
"One two, testing one two
Alright party people in the place to be
The party has already started
An-an-an-and it's about to il-il-il-ill"
Let me
I'm goin out baby uzi, style
Catchin bodies like I hit skins
The hostile juvenile, fuck what you heard
More four-five, motherfucker die
My crew is
too soft
That nigga's dead on a ki of heroin
They found his head on the couch with his dick in his mouth
I put the hit out
Yo, the smoothest killer
tha hit, even if it's below the average money
Got to make it through the week, and feed my family uppy
I'm just a lil' thug, what
Belt-buckle fall
the crazy rat
They attack to mack to move him off the map
Could never tell I fell, to hell and back
It's beautiful, the mic makes hits
To the dirty,
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