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out in the street now and
take off all your clothes and just say peace you know
and you'll be in the news you see.
Just courage and if everybody gets
and no promotion for foreign cars
The game is ours, let's keep it funky who said he was
Like Staten Island, Italians bleed spaghetti sauce
If y'all
this song all the people having fun

Music is what I'm living for

If you are feeling weak so deep inside
No place to run, no place to hide
R. E. S. P
Kaopectate
If it feels like I'm runnin' away with the game
It's 'cause I am, don't speculate, spectate
All I got is dick for days and insults for decades
the beast of Easter leavened
VIP, all day, AK47
If words is weapons, then get to stepping
My arsenal's enough to send Hell's angels to Heaven
I'm cool
versions of Feeding of the 5000
By jerks whose only fuck off to the system has been one off the wrist?
It's the Feeding of the 5 Knuckle Shuffle.

*
If
Learning game from a square
No wonder you play wit dice
It's a room full of kings roasting man
That's Harlem nights
You took three lefts
And you still can't
a gun it's old P, new P
Prob'ly layin' in the sun
Prob'ly on a PI, if I call you king
I ain't talkin' 'bout rap, nigga
That status go to BI
You can fuck
fuck tht 
Where u sold tht, 
In a day I cud move a o flat,low bags, if u show me ya grama house I cud take a p let u hold tht, 
Nigga i want 4 stacks,
DIDN’T I GIVE YOU ALL - D’CHANTA
(O’niel M. Grant & Junior P. Thompson)

Intro
(Harmony: Chanta)
Heyyyyyyyy 
(Harmony: I gave you all you threw it
beats, baby)
Great John on the beat, by the way
 
I don't care if it still stink, I'ma leave her alone
Even though she out here wishin' R. Kelly was
hunger
We been through that all the time
When we was younger
Couldn’t live like that
So it turned me to a hunter
I’ll bring the lightening
If they wanna
Win by any means
I ain't tryna take a loss
Out here for the p's
I been tryna make a lot
All i know is all i know
And all I know is get the gwop
Till
a forgotten optimist
Who disappears at night
If you give it all you got
Sounds like a win to me
The square ones taste like chalk
You should give 'em to me
running away with the game
It's 'cause I am, don't speculate, spectate
All I got is d- for days and insults for decades
But I get by my wicked ways, lady
It's a long flight
I don't wanna be home, I'm out all night
I'm a get it till I'm on, is you alright?
No no no
Let's go
It's a long flight
I don't
to the gossip, that's what's said about me constant
It's the life and times of Bumpy Johnson meets Nucky Thompson
I used to rap about death, now I'm only
Chorus: repeat 2X 

G ride, homicide, hoo ride 4 deep
That's how we late night creep 

[Master P]
Well it's the weekend and everybody chillin'
[Master P talking]
It's like all the shit we done been through, the average company
They probably would've gave up by now
But No Limit, we constantly
memorial, we see faces, names, dates. All are reminders that the suffering brought by war is intensely personal and its violence indiscriminate. In the broad
square stick with it
Make sure all the numbers split Cause all of them done did it
The Rockafellers Stellers and Jones
To many other people got paper
the daytime, chronic at night
See I'm Fudgin' by the dozen F for death Crip for life
Sex in the daytime, chronic at night
All my job servin' Slobs and blast that
Don't even know yourself, Iook in the mirror
I see you I'm bemused, befuddled and confused
But, through it all, I gotta take your jewels
So give me what
square stick with it
make sure all the numbers split Cause all of them done did it
the Rockafellers Stellers and Jones
to many other people got paper

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