Lyrics:
those who don't know my name, know my name
They call me Mike Jones and I blew up quick, Ice Age the name you can't tell by the wrists?
I sit on buck in
those who don't know my name, know my name
They call me Mike Jones and I blew up quick, Ice Age the name you can't tell by the wrists?
I sit on buck in
kill at witnesses
Bury the hatchet
Matter of fact bury the casket
Kill niggas bury the ratchet
Pick it back up if I have to
I used to bump niggas
Snatch all the honey from your honeycomb
Now the bees keep flyin' by me
I'm on that piff, that potty
That shit, smokin' like Vladi, spendin' dough from
these streets
Through worse or through better health, survivin' by any means
We as Americans, us as a citizen
We as Samaritans, what do we get us in?
a truck blue, yellin' my fuck you's
Doin' a buck-2, circle hoods like Doug Ghouls
Huggin' the piece, ha ha, Sim is the word on the street
Come on, I can
got a beam, sticks in the Maybach
I'ma clear the scene, back-to-back Hellcats tearin' up the streets
Poppin' out like grease
Yeah, I'm poppin' all
together by putting they shit on pause
So what does it mean, Assault on Precinct 13?
You are bout to see just what the dirt bring
It's working, that force, I
woman and man
God bless the God, lay these Streets wall to wall
It go, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh
Yo, you got popped like a flick by that rivalry clique
It
Countless calls and countless charges
Street niggas makin' blunts out of Cuban cigars
Big by the lines sip notice by the liters
With a flock of pros on us
of Hearts
Backstage the girls were playin' five-card stud by the stairs
Lily had two queens, she was hopin' for a third to match her pair
Outside the streets
times
Baby girl I like that thug life
Posted up by the street light, my gunshot flares the night
Young nigga's in that street life
Nigga's backstabbers
and get outlined in chalk by the devil
I rep the borough that mothered this rap shit
I used to clap shit
Now I just lay back and mack on some mack shit
I
Get the paper with Nature
Desert Storm
Firm Biz
Platinum
That's right... That's right
What the deal is?
Clue
I can take it back to blocks
Or all
to excel
Politicking amongst the wisest players
Stay in the cut, forever ganja-ed up
Private affairs, confide to my pairs
News Years to Hanukkah
The streets
and ran niggaz out of town
I ripped up mics, showin wack niggaz how to sound
Still your essence, was callin
By two gunshots, at close range, your frame had
by the straps, ya got ta kick her, fuck it!
That's how it go when ya dealin with a pro-per
Got my hand on the mic and I'm about to let it flow
by the straps, ya got ta kick her, fuck it!
That's how it go when ya dealin' with a pro-per
Got my hand on the mic and I'm about to let it flow
like a street, that became a thoroughfare
But hiding under deep - a brilliant love affair
And all I do
Because I love you. Because I love you - ooh, ooh
the best double breasted Italian wear
I am completely aware
Get the job done
No bloody affair
Paid the valet his pay
Stepped away with a pace of haste
I'm
Use your weapons, fight back kid, that's how the game goes.
My boy Kevin got his skull cracked by pigs in plain clothes.
They told him there's agress,
And this dis goes on, again and again
Uh, Uh
I think it goes, ya live by the dirt, ya die by the shovel
You can repent and come with god or you can know
The street don't love you my nigga I had to learn that
I heard them boys talk good game but do yo verbs match
I'm in the field just like Jessie Owen on his
Thinkin' 187 proof nigga come take a sip
I'm sick, as fuck I'll do a drive-by in a black hearse
And leave yo in the street for homicide I think 380 burst
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