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caiu a fita, sujou
Cadê o neguinho, demorô caralho
Bem que eu falei, todos fuça mudou
Só tinha 2, mais tem 3

O neguinho vinha vindo, do que vinha
a little dough that's cool with me
Got a little watch a little jewelry
Them Self Made niggas, Volume 3
That work get through like woo!
Shorty got that Ric
you sold a couple records, got a couple joints
Got a few Jordans, three, four pairs of Louboutins
That's besides the point like a shootin' guard
else to do
Except for call on God
Put my trust in You
No more, we're warriors.

I remember I went to school
With only about three pairs of pants,
and a half a kit
Uptown 3rd ward, get that shit, and a half a day
Now I'm a hustla, should I say, a down south hustla
(?) to them niggaz that fake, or should I
seven members,
That's it. That's all you got.
Eight! Eight!

Lick a shot-shot. Boom 5 4 3 2 1 wanna make you jump up,
It's like a clean cut
these niggas they plot
They rush up on the block with shots
From fully automatic weaponry
They had to be a least two or three cars deep
Then all
Original Gangsta well known to peel a cap
3 o' clock in the morning the "F" Gang creepin'
To see if  we can catch another Slob slippin
'Cause bitch you scary
You 20 years old, with 3 kids, 7 tattoos
You're bald, but your legs are hairy
I don't want to party wit you... hmm, hell naw
lookin' 40
With three bricks in a 740
Bitch I ain't got time to party
I'm breakin' bread with Dominican niggaz
Over a hot Bennigan's dinner
Thinkin' how
That's it. That's all you got.
Eight! Eight!

Lick a shot-shot. Boom 5 4 3 2 1 wanna make you jump up,
It's like a clean cut
Slicing through
as the Al-)
[ Almighty K.G. ]	-mighty, and with the 3
[ rest ] 		(I'm sure you'll call)
[ Almighty K.G. ]	On us when your ear
[ rest ]		(is in need for
we hit em' up...

Verse Three: 2Pac
Peep how we do it, keep it real, it's penitentiary steel
This ain't no freestyle battle, all you suckers gettin
bug you had to fall-out wit, head-chest 
Don't let-'em fall-out, shit 
And if I fall-out, quick 
It's Money Boss 
I'm at the midnight blue 
gars, faites des dégâts, déconnez-pas
3ème millenaire rien qui change B-Boy
Dédicassé à ceux qui rappaient sur Beatbox
Maintenant les MC veulent tous
would not be hearin' this
In the mist I'm frisked bout three times a day,
What I'm doing down here, nigga this where I stay
I just pray, that I relay,
like a 
Refa-ree in soul control of my 
Desti-ny, in the best of, three out of five 
Whip ANYBODY ass at NBA Live, rappers 
Take a dive like Greg
$hort Dog's in the house. 



[Too $hort] 

Oh, you know I know these hoes. 


And you know that. 

Verse 3: 

[Too $hort]
Tien justement, parle des mecs qu'on connaît aps 
Ils ont pas faits les 3/4 d'la moitié de c'que j'ai fait 
Mon gun dans ta bouche t'parle de choses
killa, do a murder for the price
So call the ambulance, and put this bitch up on some ice

[Chorus: Repeat 2X
(*Z-Ro talking*)
2K3, S-L-A-be	,
around about three cool cats
Who put the ?foot?, BACK, in the pack
And let me tell you party people just who we be
With the help of Big Bank
moi j'veux pas mourir
Il y a plein d'billets, plein de pièces"
J'lui dis "Un Mc Morning où je tire"
3 minutes après ma bouffe est prête
even though like over 3 years I paid something like 700 bucks it wasn't paid off..FUCK ME!! Needles to say my TV was included in my bill consolidation.
the three-and-a-half 
Minute mark of this song.  Radio stations may begin your fade here.  For 
Those that would like help, we will start your fade for you...

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