Lyrics:
backstreetz
I don't give a fuck no more about the enemy
My eyes red because I smoke blunts
Niggas die every day, I don't give a fuck
I don't think you niggas
Show cats Raiderz of The Lost album
Prepared for the Spillage
I was on the mission field
And I was spitting for real
Taking the Gospel message
through my hood village
Show cats Raiderz of The Lost album
Prepared for the Spillage
I was on the mission field
And I was spitting for real
Taking
boom, then your head has exploded
Blood spraying 'round the room, it is turnin' red
One more second 'till your officially dead
My bitch can't hurt me, so
yo album done came and gone and you stupid ass still waitin
stackin paper off my work
Them no good son of a bitches got me livin for concerts
I
for me
First the one
And then came the two and three and four
Five, six, seven, shots from a MAC-11
Platinum producer killed by haters
Tonight
That go to show this ass
Kicking ain't gon bother nigga
Cause it's right back where
You started nigga
Being a son of a Harlem nigga
Now you was made by
blastin Radio Raheem
Do the Right thing play your sound
Hard Rock to shake the ground
1984 album by Van Halen exciting
Killing Metallica Ride the Lightning
Georgia neck is red but son you're still green"
Well, I turned twenty one in gray rock federal prison
The judge, he had no mercy on this Waycross,
'bout how little I know
Boy, I grab a mic and rock you like your Triple 5 Soul
With a civilized flow, but if you say my name I'm like Beetlejuice
Dice
layin' for some punks to act wack
Grandmaster Caz and Donald D ,Scott La Rock
Red Alert,Chuck Chill Out
If you're down with my crew you will be fine
But if
[Hook]
You hear a lot of music, but it's boring
You hear a lot of flows, but don't enjoy 'em
You hear a lot of albums, and you snoring
But
you
Badder than you
Radder than you, etcetera
I told you I get paid by the letter like
ABCDEFGHIJKLMNOPQRSTUVWXY
ZZ top, yes he rock
And me
I'm getting by with my wicked ways
I'm loading up and I'm taking names
I wanna dig my way to hell
I wanna dig my way to hell
I'm getting by
must be crazy, nigga
Onе song for my deluxe is all I need to do
These puppies barkin'
They done bit off more than they can chew
My album just dropped
I'm
was his jaw), it dropped thirty feet!
Ooh, a bunch of dust puffed out! rocks and boulders hacked up,
(hack! hack! hack! hack hack! hack! hack!)
Yo believe I paid the dues man I started in the game
With mans on linden and Devan we drinking ghetto champagne
Slinging rocks and packing glock's
Yo believe I paid the dues man I started in the game
With mans on linden and devane we drinking ghetto champagne
Slinging rocks and packing glocks
to freestyle with, I ate y'all on the corner
Call the coroner, niggas dead out here
Hangin' onto life by a thread out here
Them niggas wearin' all that red
a free man!
{*laughing*}
[Intro: Remedy (Clocka) {Sweetleaf}]
The warning why'all, this is a warning yo
(Listen up, the code red)
Code red (Yea yea
fun, large sons shooting machine guns
Population adjustment will be adjusted by an intellgent villain
Guerilla warfare killing
Amplifies, fear tears
to go and by the whole 'lot and...
Nigga tried by a whole block and
Tried to hustle, get a whole rock in
Nowadays it was '95, the way my niggas use to red
number one out of ten
This beat that you're hearing is a primary example
Of some shit you can accomplish not worrying about a sample
I'd rather be loved by
Mabel Joy he found a merchant mad marine
Who said your Georgia neck is red but Sonny you're still green
But I turned twenty one in a grey rock Federal
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