Lyrics:
like instant messenger
You've got mail nah nigga you got shells
And my Mac you can't use for iChat
A guy that confused that will lie flat
And my gat
Nuttin bout you, your crew, because you talk shit
I'm the Lethal Weapon boy, ridin the apocalypse
If you're in my way, then lay beneath the ground soon
I've had a little bit too much, much
All of the people start to rush
A dizzy twister dance
Can't find my drink or man
Where are my keys, i lost my phone,
my trust in no hoe, gotta show me the stash
My lil' shorty gon' get it fasho'
Set the pick, and I roll, rims forgiato
Hit the scene, gotta rock out
waist tonight
I dont wanna catch me a case
Yo bitch in my face tonight
She wanna go back to my place
My diamonds they drip like a lake
She lick on em she
(Hi, the state and what city, please?)
Vallejo, bitch!
Ha yeah, what's up though
We got some players in the concert tonight
And they all from
Closest ones to me want to see me in a box
Is it jealousy or am I cursed by the gods
My son's mother don't know when or where to start
All
lets talk about this street I know
Meta meta yo is needed when its time for me to go
I spent my whole life on this KC street
The PASEO where the real
is like a Crash course
Niggas want beef boy, I'll give you what you ask for, it's either him or Me
All eyes on my Legacy
I wonder when they bury me
I'm preaching, all my bars holy (21)
You flexing for the 'Gram, that is not your Rollie (21)
Pockets overweight and all my opps bony (facts)
Sucker
From my block to your block, shout out to M Extra
Who the fuck (fuck) want (want) what (what)
None of you niggaz is Be Sig' word I'm done with you
the pack, this is a marathon
You start off fast then you weezin' in the back
So even if I slack, I got enough lee-way
To put out The Reason by the Mac
I show you how to do this youngin
How you want it my sneaks is nine hundred
These ain't Gucci baby these is the Louis
In the kitchen with the white
give a fuck where you from
It's how you come
If you want the hook up, this how it's goin' down
Prime Suspect, Fiend, and Mac
Y'all gonna feel this
wit a back like a cobra cursed by the mail
my manicured nails touch a triple beam scale
baby is a athlete body like a star
ya talkin real bad freak meet
would brush the Murray's thru my hair to get waves
That same class is where I found my best friend yeah my best man
If I do get married
To be honest that
seventeen ward block
Yes I issue more shit for you to cop, then store it by the docks
Hide the fun if you can't afford cops
So ain't no tellin where your
the rapper niggaz are clappin up anotha tell ev-a-ry one
Misery loves company so we done with thee
Enemy where he be energy sendin me the route
My
them bodies drop out, six glocks in the trunk
Chef boy supplying, whip whop is drying
When they move that, more whip whop arriving
And my connect from
what I'm saying?
So answer my question (Durk)
Is you riding for the case you know? (For the case you know)
Is you dying by the case, you know? (Is
Life is a circus I tight rope to the end but now I fell out
But I ain't never fell out
I ain't never sell out
Where's my money bail out
I needa get out
this
Where that nigga Sojourn at, what up boy?
It's just some shit, some shit that you can ride to
Some shit, some shit for you to smoke to
Some
with you (nah)
This shit is not for radio, I'm not complainin' though
Still headin' to the top, a spot they said was not obtainable
Because the way my
fuckin around.
The posse's rollin tonight, nigga are you down?"
I grabbed my AK, my 16, and my baby Mac
Strapped on my vest, and threw the 9 in
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