(feat. Kurupt) Good evening bitches I am on my business (yeah!) Yeah, I am on my business Good evening bitches I am on my business (yeah!) Yeah, I am
wouldn?t do this to me Not you, I?m sorry I must have you confused Cause that can?t be love You took advantage of a good thing And that ain?t a good
the one, like the piece that's on Nelly's chain You can't reach me, I'm out of your celly range Bitch I'll even put canary's up in your belly chain And
make you hurt yourself When you don't have dick you fingerfuck yourself That dick is an awful thing But you bulldagger bitches are fuckin' up the game Rubbin' belly to belly
bout you owe 'em I made not a dollar, you didn't sell nada Niggaz ain't even grateful that we let y'all ride You better be thankful we even let y'all
: It was the night before Christmas, when all through the house Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse The stockings were hung by the chimney
no good, so all of my fam could eat See in the hood we hungry - hey nigga we playin for keeps My soldiers on the block get on it It be good if you flaunt
: Nothing I can do about it Maybe I won't even try Your will is determined to kill any Reason of mine I see you coming With that look in your eye You
: Uh Shits all good The deal got signed and my splits all good And these haters pretending that it's all good Say that shit in person man I wish ya'll
Lyrics by Bernie Taupin He wasn't famous but I sure did love him I've got his picture in a little frame He lost his life to a big disease before it even
come on get up on the floor Right now and grab someone (one) *1st verse* Now first of all I'm the boss I just wanna get that across Man even my Dentist
just baked cookies Mr. Officer, looky, take a whiff of these Here, I make Jesus juice, take a sip of this Nobody is safe from me, no not even me I don't even
and I think I see your fucking heart Uh huh so I'm stabbing like it ain't nothing Wicked clown cut his way out your belly button I'm like a vulture waiting
Ain't there no one here that knows how I feel Good God Almighty THAT STUFF AIN'T REAL" No but that ain't yer game, it ain't even yer race You can't hear
you To see number one thug, comin' to take you back to my little telly And spendin' my money for good grub in your (in your...) good grub In your belly (belly
of grand illusions Where love is just a dream You gotta make your sacrifices Time to pick your poison The fool is he who is noble minded And bellies
mmm, you actin' like you can't call me no more cause you busy and all that, but you tryina tell me it wasn't good? Message 2: That shit is real fucked
