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One, twoCheck, one, two |
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One, two, who got more style, the son do |
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Check, one, two |
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Yo, I'm hot like 95 |
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Fahrenheit |
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On a summer night, tight spot where bodies rot |
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Rats drink from water drops in the streets niggaz |
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Little kids scared cops wit red dots |
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Philosophical gangsta where violent priors |
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Goin' back like black and white |
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TV's wit pliers |
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Leanin' on broke down cars, wit flat tires |
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Flash iron or anybody tryin' on the blocks |
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I'm supplyin' on |
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Mighty call, my peeps tie balloons up |
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And swallow 'em and the penal got goons, lots of 'em |
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Cops see them and run, don't want no drama |
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Certain parts of the streets, the beast don't wanna part of |
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Mortar, hood haunted like the |
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DakotaWhere |
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John Lennon was shot up, but he sang for peace |
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He begged for freedom, hanged wit wild |
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JamaicansFrom |
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Kingston who drink |
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Irish moss |
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Listenin' to |
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Peter Winston, |
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Machintosh |
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Lightning hits the top of the |
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Church steeple |
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When I'm writin, semi-automatic, no hyphen |
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It's frightening |
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The thief's theme, play me at night, they won't act right |
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Understandable smooth shit that murderers move wit |
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The thief's theme, play me at night, they won't act right |
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Understandable smooth shit that murderers move wit |
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The thief's theme, play me at night, they won't act right |
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Understandable smooth shit that murderers move wit |
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The thief's theme, play me at night, they won't act right |
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Understandable smooth shit that murderers move wit |
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I take summers off, 'cause |
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I love winter beef |
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Started '87, wit the shotty in the sheet |
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Three-quarter length beige, dressed to kill |
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Bust a shell at the ground, pellets hit the crowd |
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Nobody like a snitch, everybody shut they mouth |
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Rule which car heart, gun powder stains |
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Smellin' like trees, set some mill on the brain |
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Skeemin' on ya girls, bamboozled on ya chain |
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Got ill upon a train, twistin' off a cap |
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Of a English in my vain, might of pushed you on the tracks |
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Deaf crack fiends, who can't speak, scream noises' |
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Cause you bought a drummer soap, from one of my boys, it's |
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Just another day in the hood |
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And I'm wit some wild brothers, up to no good |
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We saw the movies, like |
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Tony Montana, and 'em |
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But our style was let them piled in, we robbin' 'em |
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Money dudes, make 'em come up out they shoes |
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Run they jewels, word is bond, where my man |
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Nino goin' |
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And I had to make a song speakin' on my old life |
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For the thief's who come out at night |
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The thief's theme, play me at night, they won't act right |
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Understandable smooth shit that murderers move wit |
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The thief's theme, play me at night, they won't act right |
|
Understandable smooth shit that murderers move wit |
|
The thief's theme, play me at night, they won't act right |
|
Understandable smooth shit that murderers move wit |
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The thief's theme, play me at night, they won't act right |
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Understandable smooth shit that murderers move wit |
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One, twoCheck, one, two |
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One, twoCheck, one, two |
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One, two, who got more style, the son do |
