Tradução: Mr. Serv-On. Lo que hacen.
crew, come on I'm just doing what them drug dealers do Makin' money, smokin' weed, with my thug nigga crew, ya heard me? [Mr. Serv-On] I got pimps lined
Yo Mr. President What you doing for my residence? Yo Mr. Minister Why you being sinister? Yo Yo Mr. President What you doing for my residence? Yo Mr.
do it, if you are not prepared to do it...then you will die. You race of cowards, you race of imbosiles, you race of good for nothings If you cannot do what
the police love to break a nigga send em upstate cause they straight-up hate the niggas So what I do is get a crew of zoo niggas Straight fools into rules and do
the wetter the better They ain't gonna stop us they can't, we stronger now more than ever They tell us no we say yea, they tell us stop we say go Rebel
million records sold And I ain't had to do it with 10 or 11 year olds [Chorus:] Cuz what you say is what you say Say what you say how you say it whenever
urn, nigga! "Do you believe it!!" "You don't know, what you're doing - doing - doing - doing.." "Do you believe it!!" "You don't know, what you're doing - doing - doing - doing.." "Do
was worth it, Verses autobiographical, absolutely classical, Last thing I'm worried 'bout is what another rapper do, Ain't nobody hot as me... Even if they rap they
Show 'em what they won, what, show 'em what they won, who Show 'em what they won, niggas talkin shit get served, Bob Show 'em what they won, two to
never ends It be goin on, it's phenomenon Like a new born, or a Stevie song It be going on, do ya feel it? (Do ya feel it? Do ya feel it?...) The snare
: (Voice) Ha, ha What is an M.C.? If he can't rap What is a D.J.? If he can't scratch Don't worry about a thing cause my niggas goin' do it all just
on the corner has swagger like us" "Swagger like us, swagger-swagger like us" [Chorus] [Kanye West] {"No one on the corner"} Mr. West is in the buildin Swagger on
they don't wanna die tonight they best stop fuckin'wit me Ima Pull over and boy hom where my cousin will be and they gon Hide me in they home while they
shield her ears from... Daddy's foul-mouthed, liquor-breath jeers His only defense-served be confidence Brown bottles housed his swift descent Phones called cops on
up and down the road To be fucked up when I gets into my clownin mode Then go to clown up on they ass like Bozo Oh no, then dance on top of they asses