|
*(in the background)* |
|
Man that's all he gets is a year man, hell nah! |
|
*(yukmouth rambling)* |
|
Hey, what's all this?? hey stop all this confusion. hey!! order in the |
|
Court.... you're guilty!! |
|
*(man talking)* |
|
No i'm not guilty, you're guilty. law makers. politicians. business men. |
|
The police. you don't see no black folks dropping packages out of |
|
Airplanes. you don't see none of that. you're the reason why, i'm a |
|
Criminal. you're the reason why, i'm.... the ice cream man. |
|
Verse 1 *(knumskull)* |
|
I, spent hella time on the block late, |
|
An i feel safe, as long as i can shoot the glock straight, |
|
So come, |
|
Get the greenery, |
|
Rush to the bank collect yo doe, |
|
Make sho you got yo bucks in yo hand, cuz the man, |
|
(be comin around the mountian when he come!) |
|
That's a rigg up, |
|
I rather swallow my yay, an shit slugs, |
|
Fuck task, it's a must i bubble, |
|
So many rocks in my jaw i feel like barney rubble, |
|
I got my, pager, |
|
An my, bus pass, |
|
Grab my avion water juss incase i had to dust task, |
|
It was about four otha niggaz on the spot grindin, |
|
One was on my team smokin hamps an poppin leads, |
|
(knock on weed nigga, fuck that knock on weed, you got a twenty??) |
|
Gave up two ten's an a bump cuz i had plenty, |
|
Not even knowin what i juss did, |
|
Put the money in my pocket an headed back to the crib, |
|
Got a tingle on my dick feelin bad, |
|
Looked up an seen task cars comin at me, |
|
So i bounced through a buildin lost all my cash, |
|
Swallowed my rocks, ditched my pager, i'm haulin ass, |
|
Then found myself by blyman's house, |
|
Thinkin about juice, |
|
Hit the turf, sky out, |
|
Through the roof, |
|
But that plan was cancelled, |
|
Betta give up, |
|
Betta throw yo hands up, |
|
Here comes the man, |
|
The gloves on the other hand, |
|
Got on my knees, |
|
Crossed my legs, |
|
Then threw up my hands, |
|
One of them yelled "bitch hit the deck!!", |
|
Kevin reese grabbed the stick an almost broke my neck, |
|
I'm handcuffed on the ground wit a foot in my back, |
|
Then they asked me "hey where the fuck our money at??!!", |
|
Now i'm stressin cuz the dogs right beside me, |
|
They took me down so that the under could identify me, |
|
You got the right one bay-bee!! |
|
Shot me downtown, |
|
Threw me in a cell that's drivin me crazy, |
|
So they booked me, |
|
Walked me through the court door, |
|
Stripped me down, |
|
An gave me some drawls the next nigga wore, |
|
I'm in my pad makin phone calls, |
|
So i can post bail, |
|
Go home, |
|
An then put on my own drawls, |
|
Got in touch wit my nigga yuk, |
|
What's up fool??!!, |
|
I got a quarter ounce hidden in the cut, |
|
Snatch it up, |
|
Get it off, |
|
Come an get me, |
|
Before i go back to court an they judge can get wit me, |
|
Cuz the d-a, |
|
Was talkin nonsense at my arraignment, |
|
An think she's still talkin the same shit, |
|
The |
