scrub Shotgun in this man car Burnin' up, forever gettin' thrown out the club It be us Paul, shot out and bugged I smoke bud, sniff a bee's ass to get a buzz I'm everything you think you don't
the ghetto pharmaceuticals the Methadonna Or the old Flinstone chewables and Mary, Mary, Mary So don't ever say I didn't warn ya And I don't wanna be
niggas get real ugly Trust me, keep your four if you feel lucky Mug me, I ain't got nothin' but four figures And weed and hash chopped in the coffee blender My shots
he gettin' sent back Don't resent crack, I'm just what you wanna be Young, rich and famous bitches can't get enough of me And they runnin' up on me usually
the heavens till an angel fell on top of me He said his name was michael and introduced me to evil acts like Robbin parties and pumpin the shotie to keep
ya wanna holla got to follow nigga here we go Get you ticket, the train, don't miss it Won't reach out, and ya bet I won't visit Till my whole wardrobe
't lie, homicide, gram will cry, pray for me that I won't die, suicide, I won't try, bullets fly, drive-by, don't let it slide, do or die, you
a whole pound of that LA weed And im standing sharp please don't let that candy spark Shotgun tell your man to park can let yall niggaz jump L-way B On me
couldn't explain, couldn't explain You wouldn't understand, I couldn't explain I got so much funky shit inside my brain I couldn't explain, couldn't
For the loot, we compute it, quick to shoot it So hit the switch, punk blew it, and bang the music [Hook: P. Dot (The Reverend William Black)] I don't
don't stop Killer Kill from Addamsville with a hot glock, blat They say murder is the case, they wanna throw me I guess these muthafuckas don't know me
what you get for tellin niggaz that you better than 'Bis Not possible - if I can't pronounce it, it ain't rhymable The audible probability probably ain't
, half of you rhyme it but don't live it Watch it and go spit it, stop it, I know physics Breakin' yo physical, demolishin' yo spirit The struggle got me
how it be in actuality With ready to battle MCs who skip the fuckin' formailties We spark it in any club or meat market Sweet artists don't come on the
rhyme A miniature version of me, told me he wanted to MC I told him, "Be careful who you be." He said, "I'ma just be me." I said, "Yeah, I see. But you
on the one time peepin' We don't give a fuck, we just late night creepin' 'Cause we don't come out till after dark With nothing less than 28 grams of spark