Lyrics:
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whodie outta line
whodiegonna get his head bust
cashmoney millionaires
don't touch tha broad if you can't pluck tha broad
20 inches wit t.v's is
the
Dough like 1 2 3
But you gone
Hear One And by by
Memory You thought
I'd forget About
The shit You did
To me I'm always
In your Mental
Don't Underestimate
silent the torment in my breast
My magic wheel, draw home to me the man I love
Three times do I pour libation
And thrice my Lady Moon, I speak this spell
Fee fi fo fum, I smell the blood of a rapper that's wack
As a matter of fact, I smack a back of the style, jackets are now
Mellow minced, defeatin'
[DJ Spin One cuts up Nas samples]
"I know you hate to hear the drama" x3
"the drama's all we know"
"I know you hate to hear the drama"
"the drama's
blood,
call for Christ from above
Little lamb of the gods
My lady, now slumber
Let this life I accord soothe the horrors
They'll be pain, they'll be
shit else to offer, Baraka
I'm only 5"5" so I love when they call me Lil' Poppa
I can't get a post, the copper so close
Less evil down here by tha dock
Swery
Tubhani muzik
Awurama Ama eeiii wo ho 3f3 Oo
Nya abotr3 na me mfa wo nk) Abokyire oo
You know the weather good and You know I am in the mood
somehow (2x)
Hey.
Oh the blood of Jesus (repeat 3x)
It washes white as snow
White as snow.
Oh come let us adore Him (3x)
For He alone is worthy (3
Zone three Aye!
We finna crunkin' bitch up (BME!)
Show y'all what some real gangstas is at
Some of y'all niggas just dunno (G-Unit!)
I'm
And all holographic stars align
And all holographic stars align
Three unworthy craftsman
Also known as assasins
Dressed as three hoboes
Descend down Lady
eyes, but never knowin' what I'm gon' do next
I'm like outlaws, we warrior thugs
Showin' 'em our blood
It don't mean 'cause I'm a lady that I can't have
yeah) Lady Luck, Roots, Roots (yeah)
'cause-on, 'cause-on, party on, party on
Uh ya ya yeah (x3)
*Laughs*
the window,
Seeing it, but not being touched by it.
(We never asked for war, nor in the innocence of our birth were we aware of it.
We never asked for war,
clay shoes
Playing 1-4-5 chords like good news
And cursed with skin that calls for blood
They put their face and feet in mud
But oh they
[Intro]
One, two, Bone is coming for you
Three, four, better lock the doors
Five, six, better load your clips
Seven, eight, we're gonna test your
Ladies and Gentlemen!
The satisfaction of status manufactured and captured by rapping through the microphone apparatus. Who's the baddest who's
shot him
Dead, in a puddle of blood he lay,
Another typical day in the streets of L. A.
Homicide on the murder scene, on the murder scene,
the ice was quick
To petrify, many inches thick
And the bridge was trapped from brick to brick
I first looked once and then looked twice
At the sight I saw
and 49ers
Rivals, but the South remain calm
Neutral but we see blood that make homeboys hate at each other's lives
Over colours and thangs, that they can
I’m with now
Ain’t no change in my style
I been living like this for a while
Crazy, I took me a mile
I was given only inches to determine how my life
Thats why i love you to death if your love ever left
my heart would stop pumping blood in ma CHEST..
Chorus:
ladies holla if you dont(dont)
care(care)
She never saw the face
Of that boy again
She was sent to rehab
By the 3rd circuit court
That place was a sieve
And it was easy to score
She punched
the wall
Impacted on the series of vertical components
To switch three micro scrambled
Neural energy barrels
These would be released almost instantly
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