I blow a weekend in havana In my cabana with my bottom bitch from savahnna Man a train couldn't stop ya man I man up and you not a man I stand up, say
thought you was bout to get a drink on me? I put hands on you bitch like Suga Free I always let a bitch know her boundaries Same with a nigga, I treat
train. You came home alone without Lilly Marlene. You treated my woman to a flake of your life, And when she came back, she was nobody's wife. Well, I see you there with a
Verse 2] Your staring straight into a barrel of hate Terrible fate, Not even a slim chance to make a narrow escape Cupid shot his arrow and missed Wait Sarah you're late, your train
let the clique do the division Break bread, StreetCred.com makin a killin Plus "A King of Oneself," high fashion, I'm flashin I'm, ready for whatever though, trained
your spine or Either remain calm, catch a rhyme, to your mind Niggaz ya know my style I run a--motherfuckin-rap--muk When Malik get a U-Haul truck I stand
even notice when the train pulled up And before the bloodstains faded or the engine cooled off That very same train hit another writer: Olaf On a different continent though
the man in black I'm back Breaking the back of the random attackers So can the flak Yo Im dangerous I've been trained to bust When a stranger fuss try
track not sarendipadee with me it was a plan b 'bout to have an oscar standin' next to my grammiesss plural mucho no need to talk though I'm a just do
strong enough I feel too weak [Tim Dog] Ha ha ha ha, I'm the sex man Tim Dog, ten incher rated X man Swingin and swingin my ding-a-ling in Pumpin that
back, Dr John Yeah. We're gonna do this-a, we're gonna do this song That was written by a, while back by this-a British-a trumpet player/guitarist Ken
right in ya head, now tell me what you think you is now (A top dollar biller, a Rottweiler, a killer) (Slap the shit out a nigga tryin to copy my style
the hoods like a diplomat Xzibit used to push a 'llac, now I'm Range Rovin' Takin over never sober, bear witness like Jehovah Enemies fall like October Restless standin tall like a
all she wrote You starin' straight into a barrel of hate, terrible fate Not even a slim chance to make a narrow escape Cupid shot his arrow and missed, wait, Sarah, you're late Your train
your name And no matter where I'm at, girl you make me want to sing Whether a bus or a plane, or a car, or a train No other girls on my brain, and you
I got a bitch with hair, a bitch with none A bitch with a knife, a bitch with a gun A bitch with a ass big as a TV set And there's a bitch over there,
ha ha ha ha ha ha now that im finally free im 'bout to do it again i take my life with my hands cause im a grown ass man (im a grown ass man) now that