Letras:
Sick Of It All Rip Off

Faces from places I've never been All the shops and restaurants Ask for money that I haven't got It's just a fake make no mistake A rip off me a new

you're a criminal kill it on the floor Steal it quick on the floor On the floor Don't stop keep it moving put your drinks up It's getting ill it's getting sick

B-u-s-h Fuck you to the AmeriKKKa Fuck you to all you redneck prejudice mutha fuckas And fuck yah Fuck Y'all Punk gay sensitive little dick bastards 2paclypse mutha fuckin' know Y'all

like mustard Trust it, my hardcore rain leaves you rusted Move over Lucifer, I'm more ruthless, huh Leave your toothless, you'll kibbitz, I'll flip it

it again) And to all niggas that do it I love [B.I.G.] To all my Brooklyn (Niggas!) To all my Uptown (You niggas understand?!) To all my Bronx (It's

Set it I bet it they won't forget it I wrote I edit Call the paramedic Said I meant it still in it to win it From start to finish no gimmick Got to give

it up, and won't you want it pick it up, pick it up, and you need it to pick it up, pick it up, and won't you want it pick it up, pick it up when they

babies See, it's death to all my enemies that's RIP only tactic But if by chance we kill each other our souls'll go at it See I'm doggin' the triple six

off in dumpsters Suck these thuggish ruggish nuts, Peep this cut, Make a nigga wanna do some dirt, Puttin' in work gotta hit 'em where it hurts, Puttin' it