off, I wanna smash that (ohh, can you believe it?) Party ran pack, mingling baby, and I can LL shit, you jingling baby? Back your ass up, I'm a start
I really disc jockeys at home jockin' my disc I'm gon' pretend y'all ain't heard that shit School boy 5'9 receive the hairlines and halfway rich I'm
your hands up trick I'm from a small town called 'Woop a niggas ass' And I mean, well, woop a nigga ass I mean, well, beat a bitch to death And I mean
Petey here I wanna tell I'm dead broke and I'm 'bout to go crazy Half a tank of gas, two cigarettes Scrapping up change in the ashtray Then the voices
I still wait alone for you at night, but it's all good I couldn't come home last night 'cause I was out making money But I'll come home tonight if you
greed I've been thinking, of what I need I need a freak to hold me tight I need a freak everyday and every night I need a freak, I really do I want a
Break 'em off some What the fuck I'm rollin'? In a Mack truck that's stolen, guess what I'm holdin'? Ammo to bust my load still I'm easin' on down The
'a dry pita I'll be the S, L to the I, M to the S, H, A, D, Y And I don't need a tank top to be a wife beater I'll rip a tree out the ground and flip
I come home with you? Good morning little schoolgirl Can I come home with you? Tell your mama and your papa I'm a schoolboy too. I'm a schoolboy
in Youngstown My sweet Jenny I'm sinkin' down Here darlin' in Youngstown Well my daddy worked the furnaces Kept 'em hotter than hell I come home
my mind, Carolina on my mind, Said "I feel ya pain nigga, but I'm tryna go for mine," I'm tryna go for mine, I'm tryna go for mine, Hey, Ay, fuck them
Young punks I'm the ruler, you follow my lead Slow down I been doing this, the product of speed Can't roll but I'm a weed blower, I get my ki's lower
know what'm sayin? Bringin the raw skills. Ya know what I'm sayin? Really... To me, it's a Small Wonder, like Vicki, why I'm picky These niggas suck
the naysayers I'm about to scare away the drummers and the bass players They say I'm out of my league on this one So when I get done, I want you to cut
I'm the piccadilly of the carnival the unharnessable remarkable, the sheath that holds the arguably truest tempered sword in the western world I'm ahead of my time and I'm
I'm a fool, I'm the dude, Mannie fresh the shit Two ghetto ass niggas now to flip a brick Well, I'm stunna homeboy and I'm filthy rich Super fly get money
be channel oat, Chilly O, flannel coat. Warfare? Never fair, Therefore, I need finer things: Like grenades, tanks, a couple fighter planes. I'm decorated
I'm gettin bummy So I clear my head by goin testin testin one two testin And countin my blessings And pray for the brotherman with an m-60 in his hand