Lyrics:
banks
Sharp as shanks and poetry is like a cleat hanks
Give me a pen, a typa-writer then
I'll cut your whole posse into gingerbread men
With diction
somethin closer to impossible
You could try your best
but frankly I don't think it's logical
This is yes the DJ writer superproducer Kris
God gave me
armor, bomb ya!
So quick to test us, nigga wanna crash me, eat dust
For the love of the lust, niggas busting on us
Hit 'em up with the buck, 12-gauge
I got the pack of Rough Riders in the back of the Pathfinder
You know the epilogue by James Todd Smith
I get swift with the lyrical gift
Hit you
And by the way, do you still got that school girl skirt?
Like the cops imma watch her watch me
Shot with a chaser like the paparazzi
Its crazy she still
armor, bomb ya!
So quick to test us, nigga wanna crash me, eat dust
For the love of the lust, niggas busting on us
Hit 'em up with the buck, 12-gauge
down to my core
Nothing can replace your faultless glee
Burdened by this heavy heart of grief
A somber ode
Of what you have left behind
Caliginous
Are
with Khaled, the best, nigga
Ever since a nigga hit the top, uh
Pussy niggas wanna see me in a box, oh
They don't love you no more (they don't love
shirt
I got my eyes closed you could do your dirt
And by the way, do you still got that school girl skirt?
Like the cops imma watch her watch me
Shot with
Then You rescued me, rescued me
Lord, with a touch of Your hand
Another captive free again
Who else in heaven could do this but You?
You rescued me
"Oh, nice to see ya M'am. Not a bad day, huh?"
[F1:] "Well, I'm a little lost. Could you help me out?
I hear your the best with directions."
[Toll
And expect them not to know what a woman's clitoris is
Of course, they're gonna know what intercourse is
By the time they hit fourth grade
They've got
from greatness
It's all wasted, flushed down the drain and
Soon as the news hit me, I bust out with pain and
Rivers I cried, my brother just died
more fun
Than it is to actually make it, the game stripped me naked
It robbed me of ever having another real relationship
With another girl, this
fall.
Down will come the monkey, banana clip, and all.
Splat, (buck, buck, buck) it's all over wit'.
Another plan O.D.'ed over my war hit.
The way I'm
I recommend motherfuckin' hoes make your knees bend
You can't get with this on any day,
Best believe Murda One got the motherfuckin' bad ass ways
don't fade away
Just find a way to stay here with us, genius
Cast your pearls where you come from (Spa)
Uh, I plant my seed where that lil' soil
are hanging onto me
You occupy my mind by every which way
And when I climb the steps to the street
There is no reason to doubt myself here
My
a hero, bitch, I'm De Niro in Goodfellas
If your bitch around me best bring an umbrella
Let me tap into my inner southern killer, another illa
Murder
sweat it?
I'm all into my music cause it's how I make papes
Tryin' to make hits, like Kid Capri makes tapes
Me sweat another? I do my own thing
no chaser
Watch me erase ya, misplace ya
Put you in the back with the derelicts
Yeah, I pop plenty shit
Chump, I'm making hits
No time for
armor, bomb ya!
So quick to test us, nigga wanna crash me, eat dust
For the love of the lust, niggas busting on us
Hit 'em up with the buck, 12-gauge
were at sea
She warms me soul, she makes me bold, she fills me heart with glee
The Devil's in the whiskey and the whiskey she's in me
I love the way you
Hold ground by yo' side when it go down, I dedicate this next dart
To my fucking heart
Little Meth he the best part, now walk with that one, word
Time
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