Lyrics:
a motor like a banshee
If that's ya man, girl you can forget it
I'm standin by the bar, parrot-toed, bowlegged
I make him wanna hit the bare guts
It ain't
the time when I didn't have a mouthful to eat
That's until I got up on my feet
Thuggin' ain't nothin' to me
Can't talk about bread with you, 'cause you
on that
Where they kick it at? And a lot of people just don't know
Shady Park you heard just don't go
Quick to flip the bird up po'-po'
Making the way
ain't have no pot to piss him, I had to move smarter
I was younger, I ain't listen, I had to get sharper
By myself, ain't got no partner
Swear my pockets
any means
I remember him, ion remember you doe
I can tell by how he talkin' he ain't use to extortin' the po'
With A Nigga Gotta Tote My Gun
(WE LIVE BY THE GUN, WE DIE BY THE GUN)
Get Into It With A Nigga Gotta Tote My Gun,
It's plain to see, you can't change
like junkies,
A part of a "ki" is all that I need,
To get on my feet, up outta the weed,
The capital "see", I do it for weed, and even a "G" for
behaviour
He'll be out in 6 that my black friend
They shot him in his crib
Got his ass beat up by those gringo pigs
Fired 6 shots while he was peein'
Why the fuck the feds keep callin' us?
Pullin' up in trucks, carried off in a bus
Bitch I'm smokin' OG, premeditated OZ
Organized crime, I kill your
the sprite and the lean, I'm trynna po' sum
I'm like brody gas the whip, I hear the johnny's comin'
But on the opps we up blick, we ain't never runnin'
I was
don't go
Quick to flip the bird up po'-po'
Makin the way for that rodeo, that rodeo show!
Gotta hit 'em with a reload, I gotta put 'em with the people
I
Grace na de Grace of God)
Na him de make me Celebrate o
(Na Grace na de Grace of God)
Na by the Grace of God eh eh
(Na Grace na de Grace of God)
I'm
We so thuggish ruggish
(The motherfucking war iz on)
You better suit up and do like Krayzie Bone
'Cause the motherfucking war iz on
What you gon' do,
[Krayzie]
We so thuggish ruggish (the motherfucking war is on)
You better suit up and do like Krayzie Bone
Cause the motherfucking war is
from Far Rock hoppin'
Over the turnstile
To set up shop up top by the Jamaican spot
My joints have been a
Bop, from vinyl, cassettes, cDs and streams
was waiting by his bed side
He jerked his arm the next morning
And then a tear ran down his left eye
6 men carried his coffin, put him 6 feet in
the county on a PO
The only way to get back on my feet is slang that diggety dope
Hooked up with my partner, my cutty mac
Two days later I'm back
to myself, I told him, "Shut the fuck up!"
Buckle up, cause it's about to be rough
He said, "Keep talking that shit, you 'bout to be snuffed"
Then we
with C-Pat and Camielle
Looking back for hysterics, vow to do this by my merits
And nothing else, could never be someone else but me
I’m gearing up for
Klan
Hiding from the murders like Sandra Bland
And in New York them cops is cold
Eric Garner was killed by the Po Po's Choke hold
I've had enough; I'm
is a legalized racist Klan, hiding, from the murders like Sandra Bland
And in New York them cops is cold Eric Garner was killed by the Po Po's Choke
With sprit and jolly ranchers
We Fat Pat and Big Moe'd it
Po'd it up
Man you suckas is some square butts
You aint no souljah
You folding under pressure
no po' nigga
Uh
Ran off on the plug, I took a dub and then I cut
We got all tens, hit the club we goin' up
I ain't seen a nigga that can do it like I
I can feel it in my toes
I can feel it in my bones
I can feel it in my soul
Hear the world sayin "So what ?"
Make a nigga want to po' up
But my
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