Lyrics:
I'm addied up, added up
I just ate a plate for breakfast
Put it in a cup, then I mix it up with Texas
Chest feeling heavy like a midget on my
you ever fuck with me
You'll get taken by a stupid dope brotha who will smother
Word to the motherfucker, straight outta Compton
now
You can ask Breed or Pac it don't stop
I ain't bull shittin' make a mill when I rock
Three players in the game and it's a major
Bitch you
usually not good
Cause I freeze with my hands on a hot hood.
And getting' jacked by the you-know-who.
When in a black and white the capacity is two.
to the curb
B2K bitch you will get served
By a hip hop junkie bitch I'm way too funky
Lyrical mastermind
I'ma marketing genius
That's long dick shit
So they
to the curb
B2K bitch you will get served
By a hip hop junkie bitch I'm way too funky
Lyrical mastermind
I'ma marketing genius
That's long dick shit
So they
the turkeys, ducks, and chickens
Mix the punch, drag out the Dickens
Even though the prospect sickens
Brother, here we go again
On Christmas Day you can't
And we're doin' this well kinda smooth
So what you're gonna do Dre, Kick it!
[Dre]
And so on
let tha shit flow on
Because I need somethin' ta go off
But rudely interrupted by a neighborhood street fight
When will you motherfuckers quit?
Every motherfuckin mornin it's the same ol bullshit
I peeped
Samantha
Mix the gentlemen with gansta
We are not g's
I am not from your ends
I don't give a fuck what you've done
2 young g's, arms out, nobody move
at, my nigga
Came in this game, you stuck your fangs in this game
You wore no chain in this game, your hood, your name in this game
Now you double
of sex to be stuck by the punk
We are the ones who must sport the position
Rich homes with money and food
Abandoned for the bums on the street
Hey hey come in they come
O.k. boys, take one
Danny and the Juniors set a groove stuck 'em blblblblu shoot
Say shoot
I should
Why don't you say
You got me dancing like a smooth, smooth criminal
And now I'm talking like a smooth, smooth criminal
I knew it right when I met her
It couldn't feel
that butt you got makes (me, me so horny)
Ooh, Rump-o'-smooth-skin
You say you want to get in my Benz?
Well, use me, use me
'Cause you ain't that
Everybody makes mistakes
Everybody has those days
1, 2, 3, 4!
Everybody makes mistakes
Everybody has those days
Everybody knows what, what?
It cost to be alive
I won't say I'm king of the jungle, but I survived
Watch the cookies crumble in front of me, at least I tried
You know what
duck season
I'm cold as ice, 6 degrees below freezing
Stay dipped, rock a striped shirt like Freddy Kreuger
You'se a baby piranha surrounded by
the DJ grab the record by the fist full
By the crate full, and we grateful
When you hear the stuff of records get a tasteful
(Last night the DJ saved
DJ Chill, DJ Young Sound
It's going down in the mix like this
Ayyy (ayyy)
Snap ya fingers, do ya step
You can do it all by yo' self
Let me see
pack, six degrees of separation
My evil 3rd eye blinks with no hesitation
Dustbags, spoonfuls of sugar help the medi
Go down smooth and steady, blowing
on a beach, ready for fun
Quit spinnin' and webbin', come out play in the sun
Eight thimble-sized cylinders, be as smooth as you please
Spider's bad-ass fat old
the corners filled with sorrow
All the streets are filled with pain
Around my way
People let me paint a picture
You know I ain't a Christian
I ain't a Muslim,
With a voice, telling you the bullet's direction
I'm talking murder, but that's another section
I need to explain by keeping my composure
There's no
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