me fuck naw Little Pac get schizophrenic and manage to damage all y'all I'll talk about 'em and you don't really want it 'Cause they're cornered and
) Load up your shit and get in the car (Come on, come on, come on) Come down to ride on these imposters Fake playa, gangsta thugs And these hoes who
Drink a little Mo', while I drink a little Mo' Let's get tipsy and forget where these feelings is finna go To the room, that's where I'm tryin' to guide 'em to And yo I roll
me f**k naw Little Pac get schizophrenic and manage to damage all y'all I'll talk about 'em and you don't really want it Cause they're cornered and
my nigga B.R. And niggas with the burna's holdin' down B-R There lived a jealous kid that was mislead By anotha jealous kid who wanted me dead (He said) Me and
and participated Got baptized, it wasn't a dream Now I'm mackin' with the Dangerous Crew and smokin' green Hit old school playas up, on their help And
roller and a cold, cold capper Hey baby, I got this rhyme It's not gonna stop till the end of time Like rock and roll I'll play that song To the beat
the ghetto and felt the need To roll a fat joint and smoke that weed But the tale goes on and years went by Another drug came and the boy got high Ever
out with dead line's like 'I shoot crack and guns' that's cheesy.. -Dappy- Rarrst, Many man I know are livin' in a dream-land.. Thinkin' they can play
' your heart You made a move to pull my plug now that ass got sparked All I seeing and knowing is my business and I divide to multiply And give thanks
re causin' too much chaos Just bend over and take it like a slut, okay Ma? Oh, now he's raping his own mother, abusing a whore Snorting coke, and we gave him the Rolling
and what's fantasy And then the poets down here, don't write nothing at all They just stand back and let it all be And in the quick of the night They
and roll And tonight I learned for certain that the blues expired She's only sixteen but it's plain to see Your sister can't twist but she can rock and roll
Scoo do do do do do do Racecars and Weed Jars Nigga [Verse 1] I got a style for every bump in ya face, Greaseball ass nigga, Pontiac Judge Open and
Scoo do do do do do do Racecars and Weed Jars Nigga [Verse 1:] I got a style for every bump in ya face, Greaseball ass nigga, Pontiac Judge Open and
over internet airwaves bitches hear me on twitter put my music on there myspace pagess. yeah! if you smoke then roll up and play this me and hot spitta
this real nice Berretta device Nickel playes to your North Face Put feathers and flight Let my lead strike and sever your life Leaving you red and wet
to say Right or wrong, don't you think that he deserves a play? 'Cause he's living for you and you and you and you The brother X tried but he died trying