don't shed tears we shed blood Do you still wanna be a thug? HUH? WHAT? We don't shed tears we shed blood Do you still wanna be a thug? Yo, criminal
) got nothing to lose 5x nothing to lose Verse 2 I thank the Lord for my many blessings though I'm stressin' keep a vest for protection from the barrel of the Smith
on the trigger Make enough figures until my pockets get bigger I ain't the type of brother made for you to start testin Give me a Smith and Wessun I'll
Benzes, Jeeps, see, them and they bitch got one It's shockin you thinkin naw it's just rhymin But all this time it's like organized crimin For instance
toilet, three weedheads, an alcoholic And two niggaz hooked on pussy And in the corner, was this brother who would study his lessons And learned how operate the Smith
about the violence because - it didn't affect them." - Tom Brokaw "Break 'em off somethin" - Ice Cube [Chorus] "Back to the criminal set... but
stressin out, didn't know he did nuttin wrong apologetic, say your sorry but the hurt has been done same old song, but I don't understand the melody treated like a criminal
Like Michael Jackson telling little Timmy to be silent You don't believe me, here's my hype Offer me the record and I'll show you the type Of criminal
Mosh Pit up Yeah, I bring the pain 11th member of the Wu-Tang, my flow Tiger Style Crane I'm back nigga, ridin' that Gravy Train The rap criminal, my
brain cell, all to gain, chained to the bumper. Wolfgang hunters, field goal punters tone,steel toe eruption, it's a gusher! Tonecrusher smith,usher the style,stubborn born criminals
discretion Roll with a twelve gauge pump for protection Niggaz hate me in the section from years of chin checkin Turn to Smith and Wesson war weapons
'm rollin in a drop top Three for zero that black criminal mac mac nigga That pap! pap! me hittin a couple of rounds And while I test him, hey fuck a Smith
related) Nothing to lose (That's why I got gang related) I thank the Lord for my many blessings Though I'm stressing keep a vest for protection From the barrel of the Smith
khakis creased Everybody looking at me look like the police Havin' conversations with my gang assailants Do you think, we under police surveillance? Asking questions giving suggestions Pulling Smith
the thugs and the police, shit'll never be peace Cause holiday, raise ya weights ya hourly rate We poly for higher states, buyin' fire escapes See this, criminal
toilet, three weed heads, an alcoholic and two Niggaz hooked on pussy and in the corner, was this brother Who would study his lessons and learned how operate The Smith