bent And to my hit hoes, my murder mommies I be smokin trees in Belize when they find me While you still killin niggaz with punany, like heiny and Cyrus up
we still smoke treezy See us rippin' the shows with thugged eezy I see death through the corner, die, kingdom come Six 500's, pull up right in front
Frank Mathis, see me blow my dough And any bitch givin head, if she blow I know Oh no, we had to go see Premo Taped it up, The Reunion, a brand new cut
Haa Woo Dedicated to the up city Straight West Coast nigga, ain't no pity Put holes in niggas, real pretty Real shitty like a black Frank Nitty I give
t no shook hands in Brook-land Army fatigue break up teams, the enemies Look man, you wanna see me locked up, shot up Moms crotched up over the casket
Yeah what's up what's up money It's kool keith You ever go to some girl's house And they act like they livin lavish Two-thousand extreme with space chandeliers
rapper I love black women and I hate fuckin' crackers, check me yo My breath stink 'cause I smoke skunk punk Everyday of the month in a dutch master
lap Getting head, on the road On the road, getting head On the road, getting head On the road, smoking hay Getting blown, smoking hay Getting blown, smoking hay Getting blown, smoking
me in at D' You'll be outta there by one o'clock, aight? Call me back and umm, give me confirmation I'm ageless, pageless, only want me for that thing Hang up
, Benzino is m-m-most dangerous, most violent..................... Benzino is m-m-most dangerous, most violent... Dro in a blunt twist it up, put four in your gut twist you up
Mothers, Fathers, Babies Damn Black Hand Guns To Serve We Could See But We Are So Blind To The Signs They Tryin To Lose The World And We Will Walk Right Up
Babies Damn Black Hand Guns To Serve We Could See But We Are So Blind To The Signs They Tryin To Lose The World And We Will Walk Right Up With Our
and everybody else Whoever gave threats, made bets or wages Cash donators from the campaign stages Cab drivers and frank vendors who protested Were roughed up
? Them fifteens or whole stacks in my blue jeans That's last year's model, me, I'm in that new thing Black flips, black sack, call 'em shoestrings Aye who you wit? Frank
I'ma rock, roll, shake and shiver With some blacked out lungs and a fucked up liver All this drinkin' gon' catch up And all this smokin' gon' catch up
Dollar, dollar bills Dotes, marks, franks, yens and pounds I rock the chopped up sounds from devinger dounds Out the Ford Rover, up top in the boogie