to me The time will go fast because I'm true blue On the D L, back home, I got a stash for ma duke I stack razorblades in my shoe Niggaz threaten to
changed I done blew, I'm your boo, it seem quite strange I get nice things, way out your price range Half these girls, don't even know my right name I
, yo Humpin' some funky tracks by the D O C I gotta get paid, paid in a hurry, see I gotta have it, if I'm not paid thoroughly I start takin', makin'
you and I were meant to be together, forever my baby girl) I been looking all my life trying to catch sumtin I could call my wife (I could call my wife) I
drugs Damn, alright It's official, I'm destined to fail And I ain't tryin' catch no case, I got no money for bail I'm hurtin', up in the E.R. before
bitches wanna know my whole name I penetrate em, then I disintegrate em I let the next nigga date em, 'cause I don't hate em I spit voodoo, to the most
out on Death Row I've seen money but, baby, I gots to gets mo' You scream and go, 2Pac and I ain't stoppin' till I'm well paid Bail's, paid now nigga
My peeps out here so I ride with these streets Spent weeks out here, grind on these streets I know the deal out here It's real out here Got bitch bud
Master P: T R U!!! Silkk You In Here, No Limit For Life, I Got This Seedy, I Got This, I Got The Hood On My Back Nigga, Walk Wit Me! (Chrous) x3 Throw
This is how we do Brooklyn style boy You know what I'm sayin'? R.I.P B.I.G, R.I.P P A C, R.I.P niggas that wanna OD Aiyyo, the bottom line is I'ma crook
This is how we do Brooklyn style, boy You know what I'm saying? R.I.P B.I.G, R.I.P P A C R.I.P niggas that wanna OD Aiyyo, the bottom line is I'ma crook
I'm sayin dts And I ain't talkin about downtown security bitch Dayton avenue be true nigga I'm out for murder motherfuckers get prepared to go And when I
on the globe And while the world probes, I arrest verse I.N.C. I'm still wishing y'all the R.I.P. Can I Live, for I D.I.E. I'm talkin', M.O.B, murder
Guy Slade, Hammer, and Slammer I, am a, renegade teacher and scholar If you ain't up on it you GOTTA Fall to the back of the line Hear this rhyme, cause I
car (Boy) all I say is (Oh Boy) Look mami I'm no good, I'm so hood Clap at your soldiers sober then leave after it's over Killa, I'm not your companion
' Ain't a sell-out or a bail-out, although life is a bitch And I'm beginning to think that they don't wanna see Quik rich 'Cause I'm gon' gather up my
last one to get to running Unless you tell me the cops coming 'cause I like to feel assed out, so when they trap me I blast out I'm quiet my gun gotta