a pi-ty Ain't it a shame how your man chose me And you wanna know why, it's mad simple Even in the winter, still pull a baller wit my jimmies Drive a
'Scuse me, as I kiss the sky Sing a song of six pence, a pocket full a rye Who the fuck wanna die for their culture Stalk the dead body like a vulture
they didn't so I creped up the fire escape I saw shadow's inside a bright lit room Which appear to be two bodies dancin' to a slow song nigga I got closer
sense fuck you I'm a go smoke sens Don't start a fight with me I don't care I'll bite your teeth Get in ya shit like a colostomy impossible to compete
and a crack habit Silly rabbit this song is for kids The way the messed up system is If I was a black man, I'd be up on a 8 year bid I'd ego, you know
room, pretty sight. Got a house on the hill with the pretty type, You ain't got a kush man, what a shitty life. I don't wanna hit a bowl on ya mini pipe
are homicide, raps are clear like crystal Never packed a pistol, well I used it, ain't the issue And if you insist to test us, trust me We're official, a
no need for rings at all He just cracked the V8 backed up, leaned against the wall Lookin flower, he just came home, he on like a fuck Did a dime for
just a sun child rollin in a dustin ship It's like that y'all [Kid Crumbs] Thought's a Black miss you wanna catch the Crumbs When I hums a fat song,
for the likes of this (uh!) Then came the worst date, May 21st 2:19, that's when my momma water burst No spouse in the house so she rode for self
what a pi-ty Ain't it a shame how your man chose me And you wanna know why, it's mad simple Even in the winter, still pull a baller wit my jimmies Drive a
about it Kill'a of the Hill'a, crawl like caterpillar Pour a fo-fo up in my grapes as for real'a This for my gangstas, forty-five stainless Throw yo set
Gon' ride for you, gon' ride for you Yeah, we gon' ride for you, we gon' ride for you Yeah, we gon' ride for you, motherfuckin' gon' ride for you Ha
a turban for spite Like a Israelite snatchin hoes up, my flow's up When the fuckin world blows up throw your hands up It's a holdup, frontin like you
the place Plus they probably mad bitches up in out face 4-5th on the hip and them Buddhas a 8 These niggaz wanna trip Then we give these niggaz a taste
for a PYT to come and see bout me I do it B-I-G, and I don't need ID Now we dancin, shorty workin Tryna see how I be I'm a very important person,
', I'm ballin' I love this game 'coz this game love me back I'm pushing a lac, smoking sacs like a mad mac Bringing me back, banging the 8-track track
a blunt now Some niggas is worse than ho's Holdin' somethin' on your chest let it go I'll make a bitch blow balls like a ball and sing that song, but