crew 'Cuz my clique's all true True niggas, true game, true paper Keepin' up with us, trust the true then break it Take the shit outside or start it in the club
Sippin on Shirls, Cherry 7, no Bacardi There's that new club in town (the Ass Palace) Word, and they patted us down Looked around crazy lights flash fog
Then I'm putting two in em You can't touch me I've been Devil sinned Wanted for imbesslement A lot of other things but that's irrelavent [CHORUS] [Styles
, that's the shit that got me mad! (Please, Mr. Rapper, once again) That's the shit that got me mad! That's the shit, youknowhatI'msayin? (It's a
Militia A whole clip at the competition for Bizzy A whole clip at the competition for Twista A whole clip at the world, because it's us against And then
trying to hit the next plateau, Flexin roll rolls droppin drooly go-go's Smoking b's Verse 1: You know about uno, two hoes let us flex slow, to the front
-Bizzy Bone-Intro- Rest in peace, Karlos Shammar Davis. 7th Sign soldier. A.K.A. Low Down. Rest in peace, nigga. I love you. Yeah. It's just the dirty
7 on his helmet races through, running into the stack and pushing it away. Voice calls, "Seven!" Wizard pulls out a playing card - the 7 of clubs -
is cheap at times we don't speak 'Cos we're engrossed in thoughts that are deep It's like two hearts, two minds, two bodies, two souls Making one whole, now it's
be with you. Damn you, don't you know it's over together, Us two, nothing's gonna come in between us. I know we're going two different directions Sometimes
should want for us to be, One time lover turned enemy. But that's what love can do (Ooooh) I don't want to break your heart in two And leave you crying That's
album about to drop in 7 days But I still poke a rapper at the VMA's Kilo's in a gram, PO's be my fans That's why I'm overseas doin shows in Japan
let that boy go again (Lil' Keke) It's time to lay it down, like cards on the table Big crib, watch ya gorgeous gal lickin' my navel Who's the man? And who's
Yogi's in the lead, you're trailin' me, baby The PHd's can't compete mines is better than yours Then we can take it to the streets, my rum's redder than
head down baby, let me see ya grill Gone wit' ya bad azz, make them ho's hate (Aye!) Well make up ya mind, real niggas don't wait (Nah!) What's it gonna take fo' ya to break us
When I got a passion for clappin'. . .with one hand Talent's on my roster this mobster's in dump land Send a gangsta to sleep two by two like bunk beds
shot which he will have to play out of a dreadfully muddy lie. He?s sticking with his 7 iron closes the club face a little. He starts his swing. Champion
southside, we dem southside niggas (4x) [silkk the shocker] Picture me giving fuck about these niggas feelings Mean mugs nigga ain't nothing but 7 figure thugs And niggas still fighting in clubs